Desperation, Daring, and Danger
by DragonDi
Summary: What are the employment options for a teenage werewolf just leaving Hogwarts? A desperate Remus Lupin is faced with that question and his daring friends, James Potter and Sirius Black, are determined to help him find out--even if it leads to danger.
1. Chapter 1: Desperation

Disclaimer: I wish I owned them. But J.K. Rowling does, and thusly, is a lot richer than I am.

A/N: Many thanks to Dreamer, Beta-Extraordinaire, for her wonderful suggestions and corrections. Also, hugs and thanks to SortingHat47, my fabulous friend, for her inspiration and assistance--You are a Good Thing!

Chapter 1: Desperation

Remus Lupin kept his blue eyes fastened on the _Daily Prophet_ as he ate his breakfast, hardly noticing that he had finished three eggs, several rashers of bacon, and two slices of toast—complete with butter and jam. He did notice when Sirius Black, chaos incarnate, dropped onto the bench beside him. He noticed because Sirius reached across his plate for the plate of toast and practically shouted in his ear, "So, what's the news, Moony?"

With an irritated grimace, Remus rubbed his offended ear. "I'll never be able to hear again."

"If you still have your sense of hearing after seven years of James's snoring, you can deal with me talking to you."

"It's the loudness of the talk and the closeness to the eardrum," Remus grumbled. "Extra-sensitive hearing, remember?"

"You'll live," Sirius pronounced, smearing butter on his toast and nodding toward the orange juice. "Make yourself useful, would you?"

The sandy-haired boy glared at him for a moment, then, with a snort of disdain, reached for the pitcher. "Where are James and Peter?"

Sirius shrugged. "Prongs was having some kind of crisis—something to do with socks not matching. Wormtail's helping him—or trying to."

"Oh really?"

Sirius filled his glass almost to the brim and peered at the liquid intently. "You know, Moony, I think there is a sock up in James's trunk that is exactly this shade of orange."

"Imagine that."

There was a quick sidelong glance in Remus's direction. "I think there was another sock that was the exact same shade as Wormtail's fur."

"You don't say."

"And another one that looks rather like the McGonagall clan tartan."

"Fancy that."

"How'd you do it?"

"Do what?"

"You couldn't have charmed each individual sock—you didn't have time. So how'd you do it?"

The left corner of Remus's lips twitched as he pointed to some printing on the newspaper. "Oh look. There's a sale on dress robes at Madame Malkin's. You can replace those robes of James's that you ruined—"

"_I_ didn't ruin them!" Sirius exclaimed, affronted.

"Well, _I_ wasn't the one wearing them while sliding down the banister."

Sirius's face darkened. "Damned newel post anyhow." He took a bite of toast, and while his mouth was still full, grumbled, "Hole wadn't 'at big."

"The 'hole' was a two foot long tear."

"Shut up, Moony. And stop distracting me from what's important."

"I'm not distracting you." Remus turned the page and started scanning the headlines.

"I'm merely reminding you of your debt and responsibility."

"Shut up, Remus."

There was a relative bit of quiet for a moment or two as Sirius collected a plateful of food and started eating. Then: "How did you do it, Moony? Really?"

The other boy's face was calm and composed, and he turned another page of the _Prophet_. "What? Tear James's robes?"

Sirius punched him in the shoulder—hard—and snapped, "You are the most irritating bastard! How can you just bloody sit there and give me these stupid answers—"

"I can't help that you ask me stupid questions," Remus commented, rubbing his now-sore shoulder.

That earned him another punch.

"Mr. Black, please stop assaulting Mr. Lupin," Professor McGonagall said, sweeping by them at that precise moment.

Both boys looked up with wide eyes.

"Bloody hell," breathed Sirius. "I didn't even see her coming."

"That's obvious," Remus whispered back, still rubbing his abused shoulder.

James and Peter suddenly came running through the door, skidding to a stop inches from crashing into McGonagall. She seemed to castigate them thoroughly before continuing on. James and Peter made their way down to where Sirius and Remus sat—at a walk this time.

"What pixie has got into _her_ knickers?" demanded James. "She gave us hell for running, and made some comment about the students in her House being useless—"

Remus slopped up some runny yolk with a piece of toast. "She just caught Sirius assaulting me."

"What did you do to him?"

Wide, too-innocent blue eyes were raised to meet his. "What makes you think _I_ did anything?"

"Because you seem to be making your way down through the order. First me, now Padfoot—watch out, Wormtail. Moony has it in for you now. And let me add, Mr. Lupin, that you should not be pulling pranks on your own kind. Couldn't you have done the sock thing to someone else, like—oh, I don't know—"

"Lily Evans?" Sirius asked with a simpering smile and batting his eyelashes.

"His kind? What kind?" Peter asked, puzzled.

"The Marauders, you idiot. The prank-pulling kind," Sirius snapped.

"Oh, I haven't even begun to pull a prank on Padfoot." Had Sirius heard that mumble under Remus's breath? Or was he hearing things?

"Anyhow." James took back the conversation. "I'd love to know how you did that so we can do it to someone else."

Sirius's eyes lit up, and a wicked grin spread itself across his face. "What if we did that to McGonagall? Or _Dumbledore_?"

Before anyone could respond, James, in reaching for the bacon, tipped over his glass of juice. Remus scrambled to collect the newspaper while Sirius jumped to his feet and fumbled for his wand.

"_Evanesco_!" said a calm, almost bored female voice. "Honestly, James!"

It was James's turn to leap to his feet, his face already brightening at the sight of the auburn-haired goddess that ruled his world. "Lily!"

"Oh, Lord, there he goes," grumbled Sirius. He threw one leg over the bench, preparing to sit back down, when something on the front of the _Prophet_ caught his eye. "Here, Moony, let me see that." He pulled slightly at the paper, ignoring the suspicious look in Remus's eye.

The sandy-haired boy relinquished it, surprised at Sirius's interest. The other boys very rarely read the paper; he read it and then summarized any interesting parts. So the fact that Sirius was actually sitting with the paper inches from his nose, thoroughly engrossed, shocked Remus. It was very nearly frightening.

Lily and James had seated themselves and were whispering to each other things that Remus was glad he couldn't hear. Peter, sitting next to James, apparently could hear because his ears were turning redder by the second.

"So, Peter," Remus began, struggling for something to say that would distract him, or even better, distract James.

"Listen to this!" exclaimed Sirius, slamming the paper down on the table. " 'In an attempt to augment the ranks of the Aurors during these increasingly perilous times, the Ministry of Magic has decided to actively recruit young men and women'…blah blah blah… 'In the past, Auror trainees have been accepted into the Training Program based on the results of their N.E.W.T. scores, as well as a battery of aptitude and character tests'…'An increase in Dark magic users…' and 'a number of Auror casualties has prompted a change in the procedure of acceptance…'" He paused, and added softly, "It says the Aurors are at only three-quarters of their average strength right now."

"So, in other words, they may not care about all your detentions after all if you want to be an Auror," Lily commented, popping a section of orange into James's mouth.

"Would you please not feed him like he's a helpless infant?" Sirius asked with a disgusted look. He immediately returned to the article, however, and didn't comment when James opened his mouth for the morsel of toast the love of his life was now bestowing upon him. "_Anyhow_—'A new aptitude test, developed by the Aurors, will be administered'…and, listen to this! 'Those who may have not achieved passing scores on the pertinent areas of N.E.W.T.s in the past may be accepted, with the understanding that they will be participating in remedial classes.'" He looked across the table at Peter. "So, don't worry if you get a D in Potions, Wormtail, they may overlook it."

Peter looked scared at the thought. "I don't think I'm—Auror material."

"Don't tease him," Remus muttered to Sirius, who swiveled his head to look at the other boy with an appraising look.

"Maybe they'll actually overlook the werewolf thing, and you'll—"

"Do you _mind_?" snapped Remus, glancing around to see if anyone were close enough to hear.

"No, really, Moony, listen—"

"No, Sirius, it's so bloody impossible that I'm not even listening to you." He drained his glass and stood up. "Bring that up with you." He motioned to the paper. "I haven't finished it." He hesitated, pocketed an apple and muttered, "See you in Charms."

"You really want to be an Auror?" Lily asked Sirius when Remus had gone.

"Absolutely!" The dark-haired boy began to fold the newspaper, his brow furrowed in consternation as it refused to go back into the proper form.

"I think it's bloody brilliant," James commented, stretching his hand out for the newspaper.

Sirius slapped it into his hand. "Like a bloody Muggle road map, that is."

"How would you know that?" asked Lily, in a slightly challenging way.

"Remus brought one here a couple of years ago when we were working on the—" A loud clearing of the throat interrupted James, who blinked and then went on, "—on _a_ project."

"Something clever but completely illegal, immoral, and reprehensible, no doubt," Lily teased.

"For once, no." Sirius smiled brightly.

James scanned down through the article that his friend had been reading. "It says here that recruitment letters will be sent to at least forty people who 'have previously fallen short of Auror standards.' They must be desperate."

"I'm telling you, Wormtail, there's hope for you yet!" Sirius said with a devilish grin. He picked up his fork and started back in on his eggs.

"You know," mused James, "I might just sit this aptitude test."

Lily froze, staring at him. "You're not serious."

"He's Sirius," James quipped, pointing across the table to his friend, who winked and waved. "But I do mean it."

"James, your scores on the N.E.W.T.s will be high enough to get you a place in the Training Program anyhow," Peter pointed out.

"James Potter, you are _not_ going to be an Auror," Lily stated firmly.

"Why not?" Sirius asked. "He's fast, he's smart, and he wants to see the bad guys put away…"

"Does it tell in that article that something like only one in ten Aurors actually lives above the age of thirty? And did you hear Sirius say that because of those horrible Death Eaters, fully one-quarter of the Auror force has been either killed or wounded?" Lily's eyes filled with tears. "I couldn't bear it, James, if something happened to you."

"Lily." James's voice cracked, and he cleared his throat and tried again. "Lily, I know that being an Auror is a scary thing. I know it's dangerous. But things are getting more scary and dangerous anyway. A man should defend the people he loves, and if he needs to put his life on the front lines to do that, then, well…"

"'A man?'" Lily repeated, with a shaky laugh. "You're just eighteen! You're still a stupid boy!" And with that, she sprang to her feet and ran out of the Hall, sobbing.

Stunned, James watched her go.

"You'd better go after her, mate," Sirius advised.

"Yeah, James," Peter seconded. "You need to talk this one out, I think."

James ran his fingers through his hair, messing it up even more than usual. "Shit. I didn't mean to upset her." As he stood up, he glanced at his watch. "If I don't make it to Charms, tell Flitwick—tell Flitwick—" He paused and stared helplessly at Sirius.

The dark-haired boy shrugged. "I'll think of something."

James fled.

Peter's eyes fell on the _Prophet_, and he found himself hating the thing that had created so much trouble in such a small amount of time. "I suppose you think I'm a coward because I don't want to be an Auror," he said bitterly.

Sirius blinked. "The thought never crossed my mind." He shrugged. "As you say, Wormtail, you really aren't Auror material. You'll find something else that you're well-suited for."

The two boys finished their breakfast in silence.

"You missed it," Sirius said quietly as he slid onto the bench next to Remus in the Charms classroom. "James and Lily just had a row."

"I'm supposed to be surprised about this?" Remus asked, his eyebrows rising.

"Well, no. But the subject of the fight was interesting."

"And that was…?"

"Whether James should be an Auror or not. Seems Lily is worried the fool is going to get himself killed."

Remus lightly stroked his quill. "Can't say I blame her. Being an Auror isn't the safest job out there."

"But what does it matter to her what James does for a living?" Sirius asked, completely bewildered.

The other boy stared at him as if a horn had sprouted in the middle of his forehead. "Are you daft? Or just that clueless?"

"What?"

Remus sighed. "I would venture to say it's because Lily doesn't really want to be a widow at the age of twenty-four."

"A widow? But they're not…" Sudden comprehension bloomed in the gray eyes. "Well, that _was_ utterly daft of me, wasn't it? Who knew she was as serious about this relationship as he is?"

A roll of blue eyes answered his question.

"All right, besides you."

James came in and sat down at the desk behind them, where Peter was already sitting. "I think we've got things straightened out for now," he told them. "We'll have a longer talk later, but at least she's stopped crying."

"Where is the lady in question?" asked Remus.

"Oh, she's in the bathroom, charming her bloodshot eyes away," James said with a wave of his hand.

Sirius snickered, imagining Lily trying to return to the classroom with no eyes at all. Before he could share this hilarious, yet gruesome vision with Remus, Flitwick came in the room, and the dark-haired boy's attention was pulled away from the Aurors and James's crying girlfriend.

Nothing was said for a few days about the Aurors. In fact, everything was reaching the frenzied pitch that surrounded the last couple of weeks before the O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s. Fifth and seventh year students threatened, hexed, and generally irritated everyone else in the school in their desperate need for quiet study time.

James and Sirius seemed to be the only exceptions to that rule. While they were also threatening, hexing, and generally irritating the others, it was just because they could, not out of necessity.

"Don't you care about doing well?" Lily demanded of James one night after a brutal review of jinxes. Peter had just gone to bed. Remus and Sirius were easing their tension by magically flying paper aeroplanes around the room and sending them into imaginary strafing runs against some fifth years studying frantically in the corner.

"I do, but…" He hesitated. Then he squared his shoulders, took a deep breath and took the plunge. "In order to be an Auror, they require five passing marks, including Defense, Transfiguration, Charms, and Potions. I know I can score well enough to at least rate a chance at the aptitude test, if not a straight-out invitation to the Training Program."

She stared at him for a long, long time. He didn't look away from her emerald green eyes. She had to know, for better or for worse, that this was his decision. Finally, Lily blinked and drew a ragged breath. "All right," she whispered.

A howl of anguish from Sirius made them look up. One of the fifth years had sent an _Incendio _at his plane, and it was spiraling out of control towards the wall.

"Don't let it set the place on fire!" yelled someone.

Remus's calm voice somehow cut through the panic that was beginning. "_Aguamenti_." Water shot from the tip of his wand, dowsing plane and flames. It crashed into the floor and became a pile of ashy, mushy pulp.

"Nicely done," Lily called.

"That's our Moony—keeps his head in any situation," Sirius crowed.

Remus sent his own plane into the fireplace, where it obligingly burst into flame.

"That's what the Aurors are looking for," the dark-haired boy persisted. "Calm head under fire—or in case _of_ fire—quick, simple problem-solving…"

His friend ignored him and started to stack up his books and parchment.

"Really, you'd be a shoo-in, Moony."

Remus paused and glared at his friend. Everyone in the room felt his tension. "Sirius. Stop it."

Sirius had heard that tone directed at him a year ago, when he had encouraged Snape to go through the tunnel beneath the Whomping Willow. He shuddered with the memory of it, and of the terrible, tense days following. He couldn't stand to hear Remus talk to him in that manner again. "Sorry, Moony," he said softly.

His friend regarded him with wary eyes and Sirius cursed inwardly at himself. That look was there because of what _he_ had done—would it ever completely go away?

James abruptly coughed and rose to his feet. "All right, everybody," he said. "It's late. We should all be going to bed."

Lily went over to help the fifth years gather up their papers.

Sirius took advantage of the sudden hustle and bustle to step to his friend's side. "Look, I really am sorry."

"So you said. And so you _keep_ saying. But, Gods, Sirius, do you have to keep _pushing_?"

"It started out just to tease you, I admit, but, damn it all, Moony, you know you'd be good! I know you'd be great! They're getting desperate for Aurors. Now is the right time for _you_ to do some pushing!"

Remus shook his head and started to walk past the dark-haired boy.

"Why can't you just consider it?" Sirius demanded in a harsh whisper.

The other boy stopped and turned very, very slowly. His jaw was tight with tension to the point that his lips hardly moved when he said, "Because I want it so much, and I'll never be able to have it."

The hopelessness in his words and his voice nearly drove Sirius to his knees.

"Oh, Merlin, Remus…"

Remus bolted up the stairs to their dormitory.

After the N.E.W.T.s were administered, every seventh year student had to meet with the Head of their particular House and have a final tête-à-tête about their career plans. Sirius and James went to see McGonagall together. They took a copy of the letters that they had written to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement at the Ministry of Magic, asking to be considered for the Auror training program. They returned to the Gryffindor common room quite triumphant.

"She's going to write a letter of recommendation for each of us," James told Remus, Peter, and Lily. "She says that we could hear something in as soon as two weeks."

"That's great," Remus said unenthusiastically.

Peter offered his more effusive congratulations: "They'll take both of you in a heartbeat!"

"Naturally," Sirius said, sitting back on the couch and pulling his legs up to stretch across Lily's and James's laps.

Remus slowly rose. "My appointment was set right after yours, James, so I suppose I'd better go."

They all wished him luck as he left.

James wrapped his arm around Lily's shoulders and pulled her close. "I know you're not really happy about this, but…"

"No, I'm fine," Lily lied. "I'm very proud of you. And Peter is right: they will take you both right away. They'd be idiots not to." She was surprised that she was able to say all that without throwing up on James's robes. Or on Sirius's legs…

Peter and Lily each went to their respective meetings with McGonagall and both returned before Remus.

Lily was thrilled to hear that the preliminary report that McGonagall had received showed that Lily might have more than enough N.E.W.T.s to be considered a prime apprentice for any apothecary or mediwizard. She brought back applications for several apothecaries, a few clinics, and St. Mungo's.

Peter was happy that he had any job prospects at all. McGonagall had given him a list of Ministry departments that might be looking for someone, even with his less than stellar skills. Sirius and James had a fabulous time reading through the different departments and discussing which one might be the best one for their friend.

"Magical Sports, Wormtail! Brilliant! You could get free Quidditch tickets!" James exclaimed.

"You'd want me to get _you_ in for free," Peter said.

"Well, of course, but—"

"Oh, look!" It was Sirius's turn to get excited. "Obliviator Headquarters! Can you imagine what it'd be like working there? You could go to a club, find a beautiful girl, tap her on the shoulder and say, 'Excuse me, you remember that bloke you came here with? Well, poof! Now you don't.'"

The boys laughed while Lily shook her head with an indulgent smile. "I don't think it quite works that way."

"Maybe it should," Sirius said, frowning thoughtfully. Then his grin returned, brighter than ever. "Maybe it will, if Wormtail works there!"

"There's the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts, Peter," Lily suggested. "That could be interesting."

"I didn't take Muggle Studies," bemoaned the boy. "Maybe I should have!"

"Nah, there are a lot of options here," Sirius said, ruffling Peter's hair playfully. "And we'll help you pick the right option."

"It'd be easier if Remus was here," mumbled James.

As if his words were a conjuration, the portrait hole opened and Remus stepped into the tower. He was carrying his robes, his shirt was halfway undone, and his tie was stuffed in a pocket of his trousers.

"What happened to you?" Sirius asked, blinking with surprise at their friend's unusually untidy appearance.

"Nothing. Went for a walk."

"Without us?"

"You weren't with me, so yes, it must have been without you."

"Git."

"Prat," Remus snapped.

"Dunderhead."

Peter knew the exchange of insults could go on for some time, and his growling stomach just couldn't take it. He decided to interrupt them. "You've been walking all this time? I mean, it's almost time for dinner."

"I was thinking," Remus replied. "I wasn't watching the time."

James glanced at his watch. "Peter's right. It is almost time for dinner." He stood up and offered his hand to Lily to help her to her feet. "You coming, Moony?"

Remus hesitated before shaking his head. "No, I'll get something later from the kitchens. I just want to take a shower right now."

"Are you sure you weren't with a girl somewhere?" asked James, nodding at Remus's unbuttoned shirt.

There was a snort of contempt. "Positive. What girl would have me?" Remus slowly went up to their room.

The other Marauders exchanged worried glances.

"One of us should stay," James whispered to his two friends, "and find out what's wrong."

Peter's stomach growled.

"Obviously Wormtail can't," Sirius said with a smile. "I'll stay. We'll be down soon, I hope."

Remus was pawing through his trunk when Sirius entered the dorm. The disheveled werewolf glanced up at Sirius and asked gruffly, "Why are you here?"

"I do live here, you know. Don't be rude." He sat down on the edge of Remus's bed. "Meeting with McGonagall didn't go well?"

"Don't want to talk about it."

"You'll have to eventually."

"Yeah, well…" Remus tossed a clean set of clothes on the bed and kicked off his shoes.

"You're not going up to the Prefects' bathroom?"

"Doesn't look like it," Remus replied. "I just—I need—ah, fuck it." He turned and went into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him.

So, Sirius was left in the empty dormitory, listening to the water falling in the shower. He tried to think of what to say to Remus next, but, until he knew exactly what the problem was, it was a little difficult to plan an entire discussion. He then tried to transfigure Peter's slippers into rabbits. His heart obviously wasn't in it, because all he was able to do was change them into pink bunny slippers. They had some kind of green gunkiness on them that revolted Sirius.

_Shouldn't Moony be out here by now?_ The water was still running. _How long does it take to drown your sorrows? Or yourself…?_ The thought terrified him, and he leaped off the bed and headed for the bathroom door. "Remus?" he called. There was no answer.

"Remus!"

He waited a few seconds then slowly turned the doorknob. He squeezed his eyes shut as the door swung open, half afraid of what he'd see. Slowly, he raised one eyelid then the other. _No blood—always a good thing._

Remus was standing in the shower, his arms braced against the wall, head hung below his shoulders. Sirius took a couple of steps into the bathroom. "Remus?"

"Go away, Padfoot."

"I can't. Not until I find out what's wrong."

Remus's hands curled into fists. "Damn it, Sirius—"

"Damn it, Remus!" The dark-haired boy went over and perched himself on the marble counter between the two sinks. "You know, it's difficult to talk seriously to someone when they're naked. Would you mind getting out of there and covering up so we can have a proper chat?"

"Would you mind getting your nosy bloody self out of here and let me finish my shower in peace?"

"You're not even showering," Sirius argued. "You're fucking drowning yourself."

"Gods, I wish," muttered the other boy.

"Don't even suggest that!" said Sirius sharply. "Now, get the hell out of there."

Remus let his arms drop and reached for the shampoo. "Fine. Let me do this then I'll be out, all right?"

"You'd better, or I'll be back in, and I'll drag you out of there by your tail."

It was only a few minutes more until the water switched off. Sirius waited, cross-legged and only somewhat patiently, on Remus's bed. The young werewolf finally emerged from the bathroom, rubbing his wet hair with a towel, another wrapped around his bony hips.

"You're on my clothes," he said, flicking the towel at Sirius.

The other boy shifted just enough to let his friend get them. "So what happened at your interview with McGonagall?"

"You're not going to let this go, are you?"

"Doesn't look like it."

Remus pulled on his underwear and a pair of jeans without speaking. Sirius permitted it because he saw the intense look of concentration on his friend's face. Since it didn't normally require such deliberate focus to pull a pair of trousers over those skinny legs, it had to be because Remus was trying to think of where to start explaining.

"When you and James had detention two weeks ago for transfiguring the Slytherins' robes into bikinis, I went to McGonagall and asked what my options really were for a job. That article in the paper about the Aurors and what you said made me wonder what I could and couldn't do. Today she gave me the details." Remus arranged his pillows so he could sit on the bed and lean back against the headboard comfortably. "I can't hold a Ministry job. The Werewolf Code of Conduct doesn't say that in so many words, but the Ministry has so many regulations that it's virtually impossible."

"Explain," Sirius said simply.

Remus sighed. "The first regulation is this: if a Ministry employee misses more than two days in a row without a medical excuse or a pre-approved medical condition, it is cause for some kind of disciplinary action. I'm not sure what kind of discipline, but it doesn't matter, because if someone is disciplined three times in a six month period, it's cause for dismissal. And before you ask," he said, seeing Sirius was about to say something, "lycanthropy is _not_ considered a pre-approved medical condition."

Sirius's brain clipped along at a lightning pace, analyzing and piecing together what Remus had said and what he merely implied. "So if you miss work because you're in St. Mungo's, scratched to bits by your own claws, it's considered…?"

"A pre-existing non-approved condition." Remus started idly tracing the pattern on the sheets. "So, I asked her about working in a library or in a research lab. According to the Werewolf Code, I can apply anywhere, but I am required to reveal my lycanthropy if they ask. Which leads to another regulation: according to the Ministry, any institution which is supported in any part by Ministry funds is _required_ to ask. So, a library is going to ask, and I have to tell. Any research lab that has been established or supported by Ministry funds is going to ask, and I have to tell."

"So? You get a job in a private research firm."

"They're difficult to get into because usually they have their own teams already formed when they establish themselves. They also have a tendency to poach good researchers from Ministry-run or Ministry-established labs. Also, there's another stipulation: any organization can ask if I'm a werewolf. They don't have to, but if they ask…"

"You have to tell."

"Exactly. They can also decide to fire me at any time—without pay—if they were unaware of my condition before I was hired, and then they find out."

"Merlin's balls, Remus! What options do you have then?"

"Not many," Remus admitted. He took a deep breath and drew his knees up to his chest, resting his crossed arms on them. "As far as teaching goes, the same thing applies to schools as it does to libraries."

It was painful for him to say, and it hurt Sirius to hear. He knew how much Remus had dreamed of eventually finding a teaching job. "But, there are public schools," he reminded his friend. "Lots of them have no funding from the Ministry."

"No, but they are funded solely by parents that probably wouldn't want a werewolf on staff. So, more than likely, they ask."

"But with your grades, Moony? And you can get letters of recommendation from the professors. You know McGonagall can write a fabulous letter for you."

"But will it be enough to get past the word 'werewolf' that might be written on the application?" Remus looked up at him beneath the damp strands of hair that were falling in his eyes.

Sirius sighed. "Didn't she tell you _anything_ like this back in fifth year?"

Remus's eyes dropped again. "She sure as hell didn't say all _this_. I've been thinking about it. She did tell me that I would have to make sure I got as many Os and Es as I could. I knew she meant that I'd have to work hard to overcome whatever prejudice existed because of being a werewolf, but I never thought it was quite so—desperate."

"Choose another word."

Remus shook his head. "Anyhow, she was very encouraging then, and she still is, but, damn it, Sirius, I have this feeling that she had hoped things would be different by now, or that she might have other options to present to me by this point."

"You have so much going for you, Moony. You'll find _something_."

Remus shook his head again and buried his face in his arms. Sirius looked away, feeling completely useless.

Suddenly, Remus began to speak again, very quietly, as if talking to himself. "I thought coming to Hogwarts was the best thing that could happen to me. I wanted to come here so badly, just to learn things. I never thought about a job. But now, I realize…" He broke off, and Sirius waited with bated breath. "Now I realize that I'm going to be disqualified from the jobs I want, and I'll be overqualified for the jobs that I'll be _allowed_ to have."

There it was—the hopelessness all over again. Sirius closed his eyes against it, but he knew he couldn't shut it out. "What about your parents?" he asked, more for something to say than anything else, because he already had an idea of what Remus was going to tell him. "Or Dumbledore?"

"What about them? Did they know it was going to be like this, you mean? Or do they have any ideas?"

Sirius shrugged. "Either. Both."

"I've never really talked to them about it." Remus was silent for a moment then said, "I think my parents worried about this, because when I've mentioned teaching, or being a researcher, they've been very encouraging, but very—vague. The only specific thing either of them has said was when I mentioned I'd like to be an Auror. My dad told me the Ministry would never hire a werewolf as an Auror. He didn't specifically say the Ministry would never hire me at all."

He thought about it some more. "I can't get a job near either one of them, or near home, because it'll just be a matter of time before my employer realizes there's a problem. And in a small town like ours, or the one where my mother works, word will spread in no time." He slid off the bed and reached for his shirt. "I don't want them to have to move again. Mum really likes her garden, and Dad loves the fishing pond. I'm tired of being the reason they have to move.

"As far as Dumbledore goes—he risked so much having me here in the first place. It wouldn't be fair of me to ask for more."

"But the fact that he took a risk once—"

"And it's gone so well, don't you think?" the werewolf asked, looking pointedly at Sirius and gripping his shirt in white-knuckled fingers. "He certainly can't go to the Ministry and say he'd recommend having others like me here. The whole thing with Snape pretty much ruined that."

"But that wasn't your fault!"

"What's to stop someone else from sending another student down through that tunnel if another lycanthropic student turns up?" He pulled his shirt over his head and then bent over to snatch some socks out of the trunk. Sirius watched, brow furrowed, trying to think of something to say.

"I know you're hungry," Remus said suddenly. "If we hurry, we can at least get some treacle tart."

Sirius really wasn't sure he was hungry anymore. What had started out as a harmless prank seemed, even a year later, to be continually metastasizing, and he was at the root of it all. "Gods, Moony, I really messed things up for you. If it wasn't for me, Dumbledore could go to the Ministry and say that you were a model student, and could use you as the perfect example of—"

"I don't want to be the perfect example of anything!" protested Remus loudly. "I just want—" He huffed. "I just wanted a normal life, or as close to one as I could get."

Sirius winced.

The other boy noticed and leaned against the tall bedpost. "Listen, it's—it's not your fault. Not completely at any rate. Maybe I'm to blame for allowing you lot to become Animagi, and to become, I don't know, desensitized or something, about how dangerous it was. And maybe if McGonagall or Dumbledore had been a little more—honest—about my lack of options, you would have remembered how important it was to keep my secret." He rubbed the back of his neck. "If Dumbledore was using me to be a role-model, and to encourage the Ministry to allow werewolves to go to school here, then maybe I should be glad this is happening. I'd hate to be that—_person_." He slowly picked up one shoe and started fumbling with a knot in the strings. "You know," he said thoughtfully, "it seems as if everyone kept things from me, and now I'm the one paying for it. I'm bloody sick of the unfairness of it all."

It shocked Sirius to hear him actually say those words. Remus never complained about things being fair or not. He already knew there was bloody little fairness in life. "Surely Dumbledore wouldn't have made a, a _puppet_ out of you in order to prove the point that werewolves could go to Hogwarts!"

"How do you know?" Remus asked with a faint challenging tone. "Someone had to be the example. There had to be a "first werewolf" to go through Hogwarts. That was me. I knew it. So why wouldn't Dumbledore use me to make that point?"

Sirius opened his mouth to answer, but suddenly realized—he didn't know that Dumbledore wouldn't. He watched his friend put on his shoes and lace them tightly. "Moony, if Dumbledore thought for one minute that the rest of your life—and the lives of other werewolves—rested on the fact that you get through Hogwarts safely, don't you think he would have warned you about it? It doesn't make sense that he'd just—leave it to chance."

Remus's jaw tensed. "Padfoot, there's been very little 'chance' about it: the Whomping Willow, the Shrieking Shack—all of it was designed to prove the point that a werewolf could attend Hogwarts, as long as the precautions were in place." He lightly tapped the bedpost with the side of his fist. "I knew I had been given an incredible opportunity, and I—_I_ obviously didn't take it seriously enough. Damn it, Sirius, I was smart enough that I _should_ have known I was here as a guinea pig. How many times did I tell you that I couldn't get involved in certain pranks because I owed Dumbledore? He shouldn't have _had_ to tell me. And he _couldn't_ tell me. How could he know if the experiment was a success if I was always _trying_ to be perfect? It wasn't natural to expect that from me. Hell, it wouldn't be realistic to expect that from you, or James, or Peter, even!" He bent down to pick up the towels he had dropped carelessly on the floor. "No wonder McGonagall didn't tell me anything back in fifth year. Or my parents either. They couldn't, because they didn't _know_ what my options would be. My options were solely based on how successful Dumbledore's experiment was. Obviously, it failed, _I_ failed, and with that, any ambitions that I had."

"But you didn't _do_ anything!"

The blue eyes that met his were colder than he'd ever seen. "Tell that to Severus Snape."

"Shit, Moony." It came out as a moan.

Silence fell thickly and uncomfortably between the two of them.

Finally, Remus broke the awkward silence. "I'd appreciate it if you'd tell James and Peter about this," he surprised Sirius by saying. "I don't know if I really feel like going over it again."

"James might be able to come up with an idea or two," Sirius remarked. "Or Lily might."

Remus tossed the two towels into the corner, knowing the house elves would get them, and commented sarcastically, "Maybe I can get a job as a house elf."

"You're too big," was Sirius's instant retort. "And I've seen your _Scourgify_. There's no way."

He did get a lopsided smile out of Remus on that, and figured he should count himself thankful.

"Only two days until it's all over," moaned Peter as he plunked himself down on the bench next to Sirius at breakfast.

Remus, sitting on the other side of Sirius, suppressed a shudder. Sirius felt some part of it because he shot a sidelong look at the werewolf, but neither acknowledged it.

"There's no reason to be so glum about it," James said, completely coating his toast with honey. "We'll still see each other."

"Want some toast to go with your honey?" joked Sirius.

"You know how I like honey."

"And I thought Moony had the sweet tooth."

"Nothing sweet about his teeth," James shot a grin at Remus, who ignored the comment.

"You're awfully quiet this morning," Lily said, smiling gently at the boy sitting across from her.

Remus shrugged. "Nothing to say." He fiercely speared a sausage with his fork.

"So what are we going to do on Saturday night?" asked Sirius, reaching across Remus's plate for the jam.

"My parents want to take me out for dinner to celebrate," Lily said, carefully sectioning a grapefruit.

"Is petty, petulant Petunia going too?" A glob of jam landed half on the toast, half on Sirius's thumb. He sucked it off noisily.

Lily wrinkled her nose. "That's disgusting. Actually, I'm not sure if she's going or not. It probably all depends on whether Vernon asks her out."

James made a gagging noise.

Sirius glanced around and saw the plate of sausages on the other side of Remus. Again he stretched his arm across the other boy's plate. "I was think—OW!" He drew his arm back hurriedly and rubbed it. "You fucking stabbed me with a fork!"

"Yes, I did," Remus calmly replied, taking a drink of juice. The others stared at him in shock.

"Bloodthirsty monster," grumbled Sirius. He rolled up his sleeve. "Look! You drew blood!"

Blue eyes bored straight into the gray ones. "Good."

"He did not draw blood. Remus, you did not make him bleed one little bit. Sirius, stop whining. You reach across our plates all the time. You should have guessed that would happen sooner or later," Lily said crossly.

"It's two days before our leaving!" yelped Sirius. "If you wanted to make a point,

Moony, couldn't you have done it in our third year or something? And with something a little less—well, pointed?"

A flurry of owl wings suddenly interrupted his tirade. Letters began dropping in front of students throughout the Great Hall.

"Hey, a letter!" Injury forgotten, Sirius picked up the thick envelope and ripped it open.

"I got one too," James said, obviously puzzled, flipping it over to see who it was from.

"'Department of Magical Law Enforcement—Auror Division'… YES!" Sirius's yell of triumph rang out over the sounds of the owls and excited chattering.

"Wait until you've read it," Lily advised, "in case it's bad news."

"An envelope this thick can't be bad news!" James said excitedly, ripping the thing apart to get to the letter.

Sirius already had his letter unfolded. "'Dear Mr. Black, Only the most talented wizards and witches are accepted into the elite ranks of the Auror Division…"

James, his letter now held in his shaky hands, continued, "…So, based on the following criteria…"

"…One, your performance at the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry…"

"…Two, your performance on your Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Tests…"

Sirius was rising to his feet as he read, "…Three, a preliminary background check, as well as your letter of interest…"

"… We would like to extend to you this invitation to participate in the battery of assessments…"

The two boys finished the sentence together, "…That will determine whether you are qualified for such an exclusive career."

"We made it!" screamed Sirius. He jumped on the table, knocking over plates and bowls and glasses in the process, and held his arms above his head in triumph. "We're going to be Aurors!"

James celebrated by pulling Lily to her feet and giving her a long, deep kiss that had Peter blushing. Sirius was still too busy shouting to notice.

Remus was oblivious to it all. He was staring apprehensively at an envelope held tightly in his hands. Nothing good had ever come to him from the Ministry, and everything that did had his werewolf identification number on it. This very clearly had the Ministry of Magic seal, and was addressed to Mr. Remus J. Lupin, but no werewolf I.D. was in sight.

"What is it?" Peter finally leaned over and asked, desperate to look at anyone else other than James and Lily.

Remus shook his head. "I don't know." He hurriedly tucked the letter into his pocket. "Probably a letter from the Department of Magical Creatures." He noticed McGonagall coming down the aisle towards them. "Uh, Sirius…" He tugged at his leg of his friend's jeans.

"I'm going to be an Auror, Moony!"

"You have to get through the tests first, Padfoot. But you do need to thank _her_," Remus said, motioning to the approaching professor.

Sirius instantly scrambled off the table.

"Mr. Black, if I am to understand that you've been accepted to take part in the testing for the Auror program, that's wonderful. However, jumping on the table in such a manner is hardly the best way to celebrate—" Her sentence was cut off abruptly when Sirius threw his arms around her and squeezed. "Mr. Black! Unhand me at once!"

"You helped make this possible!" Sirius said. "Thank you!" He let go of her and turned to James. "We did it!" The two boys threw their arms around each other.

McGonagall rolled her eyes. She recognized when it was time to admit defeat. She flicked her wand at the table, muttering spells to clean up spilled food and broken dishes. With a rueful smile at Peter, Lily, and Remus, she then retreated back to the table at the front of the room.

"Remus got a letter today, too," Peter announced later that day, as they lounged on some rocks near the lake, enjoying the bright sunshine.

"Oh really?" Sirius asked without opening his eyes.

"What was it?" James asked inattentively. Lily had said she had things to do, and he was still wondering what kinds of things they were.

"It's nothing," Remus said curtly.

Sirius opened one eye and turned his head so he could see the werewolf. "Who's it from?"

"The Ministry."

That got James's attention. "Really?"

Sirius opened his other eye and sat up. "What did it say?"

"I don't know yet."

"Didn't you read it?" asked James.

"No. I didn't even open it."

"Why ever not?" demanded Sirius.

Remus shrugged. "The only Ministry letters that come to me are about werewolf stuff, and they're never good. I didn't feel like opening it and getting depressed."

"Are they changing the Code again?" James wondered.

"They're always changing the Code," Remus said bitterly. "They probably want to tell me that I can't go to Diagon Alley without a big red 'W' painted on my forehead."

"Do you want me to open it?" Sirius offered.

The sandy-haired boy hesitated then shook his head. "No. I'll open it later."

"Maybe it's a summons from the Wizengamot for assaulting me this morning," Sirius said, lying back down.

"They'll see that was justified," Remus said firmly. "I'll probably get the Order of Merlin for it."

"They'll have to defend me—I'm a future Auror."

Remus and Peter exchanged amused glances.

"You know, we haven't decided what we're going to do on Saturday night," James pointed out suddenly.

That conversation kept them busy until dinner time.

That night, the seventh year boys' dorm was surprisingly quiet. James was writing a note to his parents about his invitation. Peter was already trying to pack. Sirius was thoroughly engrossed in a book filched from the library about famous Aurors. Remus also had a book open in front of him, but he was staring at the front of the envelope that he had received that morning, which he had been using as a bookmark.

_Just open the thing_, he told himself.

_I don't want to_, his self whimpered.

_Coward._

_Yeah. Got a problem with that?_

_It's not going to go away if you don't read it._

_No, but it's going to take away another part of my humanity if I _do_ read it._

Finally, dread weighing in his stomach like a ton of stone, he eased one long finger under the flap and tugged.

The faint sound of ripping paper caused Sirius to glance up. "Are you finally opening that bloody letter?"

Remus sighed and nodded. He should have opened it in the bathroom where he'd have had more privacy.

Sirius sat up, dog-earing the page he was on. James paused, quill in hand, his eyes curious behind his glasses. Peter looked over, but then went back to his packing.

Remus unfolded the letter and scanned it quickly. They saw him blink, and then saw his eyes go back up to the top of the letter and start to reread it.

"Oh, that's not fair, Moony!" cried Sirius. "You can't read it twice before we've heard what it says!"

"How bad is it?" asked James, coming over to Sirius's bed and throwing himself across it on his belly.

"Let's guess what it is!" Sirius said excitedly. "I think that werewolves are now required to wear red leather collars and drink out of those plastic bowls that Muggles get for their dogs."

"Good guess." James patted his friend's knee. "But I think it says that werewolves are going to be required to check in at the Registry every time they want to go to Diagon Alley. Wormtail? What's your guess?"

"I think that werewolves will no longer be able to have a bed. They'll have to sleep in a kennel with straw every night."

"That's surprisingly creative for you, Worm—" Sirius's sentence was cut off by James's jostling arm. "Why'd you—?"

James nodded toward Remus, who was now whiter than the parchment. His jaw was slack, which gave him a rather feckless look that they had never seen before.

"They're going to let you live, aren't they?" Sirius asked.

Remus blinked and shut his jaw with an audible snap. "Uh, yeah. For now."

"What is it?"

The werewolf quickly began to fold the letter back up. "It's… nothing."

"Moony, you're a bloody liar."

He hesitated just a second before answering, "Yes, I am."

"So, what is it?" Sirius persisted.

James suddenly got up and went over to Remus's bed. "Give it," he ordered, arm outstretched.

Remus looked at his friend's hand.

"You heard me," James said sternly. He snapped his fingers. "Now."

"Use _Imperius_ on him, James," suggested Sirius.

Remus slowly handed the letter over. James made a big show of unfolding it and smoothing it out. "Let's see now. Here goes, lads.

'Dear Mr. Lupin,

Only the most talented wizards and witches are accepted into the elite ranks of the Auror Division. So, based on the following criteria:

Your performance at the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry,

Your performance on your Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Tests,

A preliminary background check,

We would like to extend to you this invitation...'"

James fell silent.

Three pairs of eyes fastened on the silent fourth.

"They've invited you to take the tests to be an Auror, Moony," Sirius whispered in awe.

"No." Remus shook his head. "It has to be a mistake. It has to be. My dad told me—"

"How could they have screwed up so badly?" Sirius interrupted him. "They couldn't have. It's the Ministry. It has to be a genuine invitation."

"They did change the restrictions and the testing procedures," Peter reminded them.

"See? They've come to their senses!" Sirius said with more excitement. "Moony, this is your chance! This is what you wanted!"

"It doesn't work like that," Remus whispered. "It's not real. It has to be a mistake." He shook his head again. "It's not possible."

Sirius scrambled off the bed and swiped the letter from James's hand. "It's the same thing we got, and it says they did a preliminary background check. _Surely_ it wouldn't take much checking to discover your furry little problem."

"I've got a bloody file down there that's an inch thick," Remus said bitterly. "It's a little hard to miss."

"So it can't be a mistake!"

"Take it to Dumbledore or McGonagall," Peter suggested. "They can check up on it."

"No!" howled Sirius. "Don't!"

They all looked at him in varying degrees of bewilderment.

"Listen." Sirius sat down on Remus's bed and put one arm around his shoulders. "If this is an actual invitation, they're going to wonder why you're questioning it. They may think you have something more to hide."

"Sirius, that's ridic—"

Sirius clapped a hand over Remus's mouth. "Hear me out. If, _if_, this letter is a mistake, asking about it will give them the chance to take this away from you."

"But Sirius…"

"Would you _shut up_! We all know you'd make a damned fine Auror. _You_ know it too. I say, treat the letter like it's a real invitation. There are plenty of opportunities for them to tell you it's a mistake, starting with the third of July, when we go for the first round of tests. If you get through the testing, and get into the program, what are they going to say? You'll have proved yourself to them. If you get the sympathy of some of them, maybe they'll fight to keep you."

"That's a lot of bloody _ifs._"

"Of course it is. But, isn't it worth fighting for?"

Remus slowly took the letter from Sirius's hand and stared at it.

James sat down at the foot of his bed. "What's the worst that could happen?" he asked.

The werewolf gave him a sharp look, wondering if he was being flippant. No, James honestly wanted to know.

"I don't know," he said miserably. "I suppose I could be arrested and thrown into Azkaban for not revealing my lycanthropy."

"But if they did the background check as they said they did, you have every right to assume they know," Sirius insisted.

Remus shook his head. "I can't make that assumption. I haven't_ made_ that assumption."

"No, but you can claim it."

"Maybe if I was fully human I could," Remus said. "_They_ won't see it that way."

"So we make sure you have a good lawyer before you go in for the testing."

"Wait. I haven't said I'm going to go."

Sirius stared at him in disbelief. "Of course you're going to go. You_ want _this, Moony You _deserve_ it. I'll drag you there by your furry, pointy ears if I have to."

Remus very carefully folded the letter and slipped it between the pages of his book.

"Just think about it," Sirius pleaded softly.

"It could work," James said in the same quiet tone.

"It could be your only chance," Peter insisted, coming over to stand next to James. "I say go for it."

Remus sighed. "I'll think about it.

"You'll think about it?" Sirius yelped. "Moony, you—"

"I said I'll think about it!" Remus repeated firmly. "Just leave it alone, would you, Padfoot? For once in your bloody life, just—please—leave it alone."

Sirius scowled. "All right. I'll leave it alone. But I want a decision by Saturday night."

James and Peter laughed uneasily. Remus merely sighed and shoved Sirius off the bed and ignominiously onto the floor.


	2. Chapter 2: Daring

Typical Disclaimers...would that I was; alas that I am not.

A/N: Where would I be without my beta-extraordinaire, Dreamer, who has to be the world's best Brit-picker? Thank you! And to SortingHat47—thank you for being a Good Thing!

Thanks to those who have enjoyed and reviewed!!

Chapter 2: Daring

Dawn on the third of July was as beautiful a morning as Remus could ever remember. He stood in the kitchen window of Sirius's flat, glass of juice in hand, watching the sky and then London slowly come to life.

"I suppose this is as good a day as any to get sentenced to Azkaban," he muttered.

"What was that?" Sirius asked, all but skipping into the room.

"Nothing."

"Gods, Moony, are you still moping about this?"

"I'm not moping."

"It's going to be fine."

"You're not the one going to Azkaban if it doesn't."

"Would you stop mumbling? I'd like to hear what curses you're throwing at me." Sirius stood with the charmed icebox door open, staring at the contents.

"That cooling charm is going to run out if you keep the door open any longer," Remus pointed out.

"Yes, mum." Sirius grabbed the pitcher of juice and shut the door.

"I made some toast." Remus watched his friend out of the corner of his eye. _Wait for it, wait for it…_

Sirius looked around the small room, "Where—?"

"But I ate it all."

The other young man turned slowly to look at him. "You're an infuriating bastard."

"So you've said." He allowed himself to smile.

Sirius shook his head and set to making some breakfast for himself. "Did you tell your parents what we're doing today?"

Remus inhaled deeply. "I told them what you and James are doing. I lied through my teeth about what I'm doing."

"What did you tell them?"

"I told them I was going to see about a job at a bookstore in Blackpool."

"Blackpool? Why in Merlin's name did you pick Blackpool?"

Remus shrugged. "Why not Blackpool?"

There was a flutter of wings, and Remus pounded at the slightly warped window frame until the window was open just enough to allow the owl to duck inside. It shot a look of disgust at either Remus or the window—he wasn't sure which—and settled on the back of one of the two kitchen chairs.

Sirius went over to it and glanced at the envelope held in the owl's beak. "That's got your name on it, Moony."

"How'd they know—?" Remus stroked the bird's feathery head lightly and took the letter. He glanced at the seal on the back and sighed. "Oh. Hey, Padfoot." He glanced over at his friend. "You don't mind if I gave your address as mine for an application or two, do you?"

Sirius had grabbed a box of cereal and was digging into the box with a spoon. "No, why should I care? You're here more than at your parents' anyhow."

Remus was too busy opening the letter to answer.

Sirius tossed the bird a piece of cereal which it ignored. "Picky, are you?" The handsome boy opened a cabinet and started rummaging through it. "Hey, Moony, where are the owl treats?"

"Second shelf," his friend replied absently.

"Aha!" Sirius fished one out and handed it to the owl, which hooted its thanks. It looked expectantly at Remus.

It took a moment before the werewolf realized he was being stared at. "Oh, there's no reply," he said. "Thank you, though."

The owl shook itself all over, ruffling its feathers, and then took off. Remus again hammered at the wooden window frame until it closed.

"Who's the letter from?"

Remus hesitated then tossed the letter on the table.

Sirius scooped it up and read through it quickly. "Gods, I'm sorry, Moony." He put the letter back in the envelope and tossed it on the table. "I didn't know you applied at that school."

"You don't know half of where I've applied," Remus said quietly, turning back to the window.

"How many—er—letters like this—"

"Rejection letters? Nine. In the one week since we've been out of school, I've received nine 'thank you, but we don't need a werewolf' letters."

"Nine?" Sirius was personally aware of four. Lily had mentioned two others, and James thought there may have been one more, but he wasn't certain.

"It's a good thing these tests start today," Remus mused. "I'm getting desperate enough to hope I have a chance."

James came to the flat, and the three of them walked the few blocks to the Ministry. They could have used the Floo, but it was a beautiful morning, and the three young men wanted the extra time to speculate, discuss, and prepare themselves for the day ahead. Sirius practically bounced the whole way to the Ministry. James chattered endlessly. Remus kept his hands deep in his pockets and his head down, lost in thought.

All too soon—well, maybe not soon enough for Sirius—they were standing at the red phone booth that was the visitor's entrance to the Ministry.

"Here we go, lads," breathed James.

"I think I'm going to be sick," murmured Sirius, suddenly looking as if he just might.

"You bloody got me into this," Remus said sharply. "You're going in there, even if I have to drag you in by _your_ furry ears."

Sirius looked at James and jerked a thumb in their friend's direction. "Do you hear how mean he is to me? Remember the whole stabbing-with-a-fork incident? I'm telling you, he needs rabies shots."

Remus grabbed him by the arm and pulled him over to the phone booth. "Let's go before we're late."

They crammed into the phone booth with quite a bit of cursing and laughter. James managed to press the required buttons, and they listened as the disembodied voice greeted them and asked them their business.

Sirius gazed around at his friends, grinned broadly and said, "James Potter, Sirius Black, and Remus Lupin for Auror aptitude testing."

"Thank you." There was a pause and a click, and three badges appeared. Remus eyed his with confusion.

"What is it?" Sirius asked, noticing the werewolf's puzzled look.

"No werewolf I.D. number," Remus replied. He held it up for his friends' inspection. "Should I tell—?"

"No!" James and Sirius almost shouted it.

"It's not your fault," James said. "Just say you didn't realize the number wasn't on there."

"Lie through your sharp, pointy teeth," Sirius agreed.

Remus's heart was hammering as he struggled to pin the thing to his robes. He didn't want to think about how many rules and laws he would be breaking today. Azkaban felt closer than it ever had.

There were twenty young men and women reporting for the aptitude tests. Several of them were known by the Marauders as former Hogwarts students. It was enjoyable, seeing and talking to people they hadn't seen in at least a year or two, and Remus felt himself starting to relax a bit. Any ease he and the others found was lost, however, when an Auror announced that they'd be given a written potions exam while they were either waiting for or had finished a psychological evaluation. And so it began.

Remus found it amusing—hilarious, actually—that the wizard in charge of his psychological profile asked him repeatedly if he felt he was ruthless enough to be an Auror.

Sirius found it laughable that the woman he had talked to worried that he was too intense.

Still, by lunch time, all three had passed their psychological profiles, had taken the written test on potions (which Remus had his fingers crossed about), and had heard at least four speeches about the Aurors, their history, and their mission. Two of the twenty had been sent home: one for cheating, the other for breaking down in the middle of the psychological evaluation.

The afternoon was for a practical demonstration of transfiguration. Only one room was available, so times had to be staggered to accommodate the eighteen remaining candidates. Sirius and Remus were scheduled for the second group, James for the third. Seeing that they had two hours before the second group was tested, the three young men went to lunch at a small pub near the Ministry.

"I'm exhausted from that evaluation this morning. That woman was an utter dragon," Sirius said, after chugging half of a butterbeer.

"I thought she was quite nice," James commented. "Of course, she didn't accuse me of joining the Aurors to imprison my dysfunctional family."

Remus was silent, intent on devouring his hamburger.

"When they were accusing you of not being vicious enough, did you tell them you stabbed me with a fork?" Sirius asked.

The werewolf smirked at his friend. "Of course I did. But then I told them why, and they said that wasn't viciousness: it was self-defense."

They laughed.

The transfiguration demonstrations went well for all three of them. Sirius received extra credit during one exercise in which each person was given three objects and told to transfigure them into items that could be used to capture a Dark wizard.

Sirius turned a book into an invitation to a formal affair for pure-blood wizards. A Shiitake mushroom became a doorknob. When the puzzled Auror examiner put his hand on the doorknob, a stick of gum—transfigured into a sort of stringy, sticky rope—shot out of the doorknob and wrapped itself around him.

"Clever!" a raspy voice said from the rear of the room.

They all turned to see a stocky, extremely scarred man standing in the back of the room. He began to walk to the front of the room, and they heard a clunking noise with every other step that told them that he had an artificial leg, though you'd never be able to tell it by the way he moved.

"Black, there, is the only one who remembered that you can lure a Dark wizard into a trap. You'd do well to remember that a lot of Dark wizards and those bloody Death Eaters are pure-bloods, and obsessed about it. An invitation like this," he picked up the transfigured book, "is something they'd never be able to pass up. Smart boy. I'm going to keep my eye on you." The beady, dark eyes glittered beneath bushy eyebrows, and Sirius suddenly wasn't sure if the Auror meant it to be a compliment or a threat.

When the testing was over for the day, he approached one of the Aurors and asked her about the strange man.

"Oh, that's Alastor Moody. He's the best we've got. A bit of a legend; he's been here more than twenty years. 'Course, in our job, we're lucky to get five years in. You've impressed him, and he's not easy to impress."

Sirius was nearly impossible to live with that night.

--

The three Marauders decided to walk to the Ministry again the next morning.

"Why break with tradition?" Sirius asked.

"I think something has to happen more than one time to be considered tradition, Padfoot," Remus said, yawning. Sirius had kept him up late, babbling about Moody.

They squeezed into the telephone booth and received their badges. Remus's again did not have his Werewolf Registry I.D. number on it. He shook his head over it, but didn't say anything.

That morning began with a written general knowledge exam, which James and Remus found easy, and Sirius declared was insulting to his intelligence. They returned to the same pub for lunch, this time with three other Auror candidates. They filled the pub with laughter and a tumultuous racket that made the pub owner shake his head and several of his other customers leave quickly.

A practical defense session was scheduled for that afternoon for the now fifteen remaining Auror-hopefuls. It pitted one team of three Aurors against one team of five candidates. The entire first floor of the Ministry, containing three large meeting rooms, several smaller offices, and four broom closets, was their battleground. The object was to stun or incapacitate as many members of the other team as possible within a one-hour period.

Sirius, Remus, and James all ended up in separate groups. Sirius and James quickly emerged as leaders, directing their fellow candidates in the pseudo-battle. Both teams stunned two Aurors, but lost all five members. James sacrificed himself in an amazing gymnastic feat that gained his last two teammates time to stun the second Auror. It also earned Moody's approval: "Some day, all of you may have to sacrifice yourselves for the good of your teams—are you _all_ ready for that?"

Remus, however, was the one who received the most attention from Moody that afternoon. A pompous young man, impressed by his own importance, appointed himself the leader of Remus's group. His plans were, at best, pitiful. Remus gently, but firmly, pointed out holes in the plans, forcing Richardson to rethink and rely on his fellow teammates for ideas and support. Remus acted as a scout, trying not to rely completely on his werewolf-enhanced senses to tell him where the Aurors were. He couldn't risk letting them see or even suspect that his reflexes were anything more than human. He stunned one of the Aurors, and put a full body-bind on a second. He and one other teammate, a blonde girl with amazing quantities of freckles, were the only two that managed to survive the entire hour.

"I haven't seen anyone as quick with a Stunner in some time," Moody said, slapping Remus on the back. "Amazing reflexes, boy. Almost inhuman! Your speed, Black's brains, Potter's leadership—we have Aurors in the making here!"

It was his turn to be impossible to live with that night. Not because he was flattered by Moody's attention, but because he had captured it in the first place.

--

"Everything has been going perfectly," Sirius announced Wednesday morning. "We're practically Auror trainees, Moony!"

Remus said nothing.

"Would you stop worrying about yesterday? I'm telling you, no one noticed anything unusual. Yes, you were quick, but you weren't so much quicker than anyone else that it would raise any kind of alarms. It will be fine!"

"I wish I had your confidence."

"You can. You do. Just repeat after me: 'It will be fine. It will be fine.'"

Remus smiled lopsidedly and echoed, "It will be fine."

"Don't you feel better already?"

The smile faded. "No, not really."

--

Potion-making took up the morning, and Remus was pleasantly surprised at how well he did. Still, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was going to go wrong at any moment.

Lunch was in the same pub, and their crowd had grown to ten, including the freckle-faced blonde who had been in Remus's group during the defense exercise. She sat next to Remus and spoke quietly to him about her life in Ireland. It seemed very restful to him, though to her, it was the most boring backwater in history. Sirius kept giving him encouraging grins when the girl wasn't looking. James kept elbowing him whenever she made a remark that was the slightest bit flirtatious.

"Gods, Moony! Look at all that's happening—a job and a girl all within two weeks of leaving Hogwarts!" Sirius said happily as they walked back to the Ministry. The girl—Siobhan—was slightly ahead of them, chatting with the other two girls who had joined them.

"Don't jinx it, Padfoot."

"Jinx it? How can I jinx it?" One of the girls was glancing back at Sirius with an unmistakable glint in her eye, so he almost missed Remus's reply.

"I can think of at least sixty ways without even breaking a sweat."

Moody made the announcement that afternoon. "We're letting you out early today because we've got a special session for tonight. We're not giving you details yet. What we need from you is where you will be at eleven o'clock tonight. And, I'm warning you, you'd better be exactly where you say you'll be. You'll get your instructions then."

Two Aurors moved among them, jotting down names and places. Remus and James both gave Sirius's address as where they'd be.

"Have you told your parents about all this yet?" James asked as the three of them strolled back to Sirius's flat.

"Of course I haven't. I doubt they'd approve," Sirius said, winking brazenly at a beautiful girl walking past them.

"I wasn't talking to you, you prat…"

"No. I didn't tell them. And I'm not telling them. There are still so many ways this can go wrong," Remus said.

"You're such a bloody pessimist," complained Sirius.

"No, I'm a bloody realist," Remus countered.

--

At a little before eleven o'clock, someone knocked on the door.

"Suppose we should try to surprise them? Ambush them or something?" James asked.

Sirius's face brightened at the thought.

Remus shook his head. "Let's just get this over with."

Before they could discuss it any more, the door burst open with a bang, and five people dressed in Auror robes pushed their way into the room.

"Here are your instructions," said one wizard, who they knew as a potions expert. "We're going to take you to a secure place. You'll be left—alone—with nothing, and that includes your wand. Your task is to collect at least three of these tags," he held up a small rectangular piece of material, "without being caught. You will have until dawn to get the tags. If you are caught before you get all three tags or you don't get them by the time dawn comes, you will have failed the exercise."

"What happens if we fail?" Sirius asked.

The Auror shrugged. "You'll find out."

"How secure is this place?" James wanted to know, nervousness making his voice crack.

"There's nothing there to harm you," said another Auror.

"Except us," quipped a third.

The Aurors laughed. The three Marauders did not.

Suddenly, wands were leveled in their direction, and the last thing they heard was, "_Stupefy!"_

--

Remus awoke, tingling all over, which told him he had been _Rennervated._ His shoulder was achy from being stunned, but other than that, he was unharmed. He automatically reached for his wand, remembering just a little too late, that the Aurors said he wouldn't have it for this exercise. Well, it wasn't the first time he had awakened in the woods without a wand. And then realization set in. He was in the woods. But what woods? They said nothing could hurt him, right? Except for the Aurors. And they knew where he was. So, first thing being first, he had to move away from where they had dropped him. If they came back and he was sitting there, the game would be over before it began. Besides, he had to go track down three of those tags.

He rose a little unsteadily to his feet and looked around. Which direction? _If I were one of those stupid tags, where would I be?_

_I'd be at home reading a book and drinking a butterbeer._

_Note: sarcasm does _not_ help the situation._

He looked around, trying to get his bearings. It was fully dark now, and the new moon was going to be of absolutely no help to him. Of course, that meant it wouldn't be of help to the Aurors, either. _But they have wands_…

So, which way to go? The sound of a cracking twig came from his left, and he instantly flattened himself against a tree. Instinctively, he inhaled deeply. Definitely human—he could smell the faintest traces of soap and sweat mixed with—fear? It was definitely one of the candidates, Remus thought. The Aurors would have no reason to be fearful. The person was coming nearer, and now he could see the faint outline of a head covered with blonde hair, and a feminine outline…

He stepped away from the tree, deliberately stepping on a stick so that it cracked. The girl gasped. "Who's there?"

"It's Remus, Siobhan."

"Remus?" She stumbled over and threw her arms around him. "I am so glad to see you!"

"Have you seen anyone else?" he asked. "Or found any tags yet?"

She shook her head. "I thought I heard someone talking, but I was afraid to go see who it was. And as far as those stupid tags…" She mumbled something obscene.

He chuckled and started to pull away from her, but she grabbed his arm and held onto it tightly. Well, things could be a hell of a lot worse, he thought, with a smug smile. "Let's go find some tags, shall we?"

--

Sirius had been staring at the tag for several minutes now. It fluttered cheerfully, taunting him, from the top of a meter-tall stick set into the ground. A charm of some sort illuminated the tag and the surrounding area, which made Sirius hesitant about just rushing in to get it. He hadn't heard anything in the past five minutes, but he wouldn't be surprised if an Auror was lying in wait somewhere nearby. He had tried _Accio_, but it hadn't worked. He hadn't really thought it would.

_I just can't sit here all night staring at the damned thing._

So, he had to take action. He decided to scout around the perimeter of the light-suffused area. _Should I…?_ He grinned broadly. Of course he should. An Auror should use whatever resources he had at hand—or paw. Right? Of course, right.

A moment later, a large black dog trotted jauntily between the trees.

--

James stopped and listened carefully. Had there been something moving, just beyond that rock…? Suddenly there was the scrape of something against rock, and he threw himself behind a tree just as someone yelled, "_Impedimenta_!" The tree splintered, and James felt a sliver drive itself into his cheek.

He threw himself down to the ground, and behind another rock.

Behind him, the Auror yelled, "I've got one here!" and sent off another _Impedimenta_ at him. He huddled in a ball, glancing around for a better hiding spot.

And then he saw it: a tag. It was attached to a rock less than a dragon-length away—and a small dragon, at that. His hand went to his back pocket, where two other tags already resided. If he could get this last one, the game would be over for him. But how could he get it?

He risked a quick look over the side of the rock. There were two Aurors now; or at least, that's all he could see. And there was that stupid bloody tag. It was laughing at him, he would swear to it.

_I would kill for a broom right now. _

_--_

Anyone else would have thought it was a leaf. There was a subtle difference in the sound though, that made Remus look up. A tag, charmed to glow weakly, fluttered in a branch over their heads. He knew it would be just beyond his fingertips.

"What's wrong?" Siobhan whispered, coming to a stop right behind him.

He pointed.

The Irish girl looked around. "How do we get it down? Can you reach it?"

Remus shook his head. "I'm thinking this one's unguarded. They probably wouldn't have thought anyone would find this one."

So far, they each had two of the red ribbons, and they had discovered the simple fact that, if a tag was overtly displayed, if was defended by a trap or an Auror. The ones that were the most difficult to see hadn't been defended. So far.

Remus eyed the tag and then looked at Siobhan. "Ready for your third tag?"

"You found it," she protested.

He smiled. "But you're going to have to actually get it. Ready?"

"What are…?"

"I'll lift you up." And before she could think about it, he bent down and grabbed her legs. "Here goes," he said in warning before he picked her up off the ground. "Thank God you don't weigh as much as my friend, Peter," he said, almost instantly contrite that he had said something disparaging about Wormtail.

"Remus, I can't—back up—yes!" The triumphant tone in her voice told him what he needed to know, and he gingerly lowered her to the ground.

As he straightened, she caught his face gently between her hands and kissed him. "Thank you," she whispered.

"No problem," he replied breathlessly. _I love those stupid tags._

_--_

Sirius had discovered an Auror at the illuminated post, and had lured the woman away, just avoiding a _Stupefy_ and a leg-locking curse. He managed to slip back to the post and steal the ribbon while she tore apart a briar patch looking for him. _That's two!_ He slipped deeper into the woods, every sense alive with exultation and joy.

--

James had managed to get behind a larger rock, but he could hear the two Aurors moving through the trees, attempting to flank him on either side. Straight ahead of him was the tag. Could he make it?

By the sound of lively and quite nasty swearing, one of the Aurors was tangled in some branches or vines and was unable to go in any further. _This could be my only chance…Shut up and _go_! _James sprang over the rock, and headed for the tag, bobbing and weaving as he went, narrowly avoiding at least two curses and a jinx. He made a great leap, his fingers snagging the edge of the tag, and ripping it off the rock…

His shoulder smashed into the rock, but he didn't notice the pain. All he could feel was the smooth material between his fingers. "Three!" he yelled. He leapt to his feet and reached for the other two ribbons in his back pocket. "I've got three!"

--

Sirius stopped to get a drink from a stream. It was quite possibly the best water he'd ever tasted in his life. As he started to rise, something caught his attention: A grindylow. But it was still, tightly gripping the rocks beside itself as if defending something. Could it be? Yes! A tag lay at the bottom of the stream, held in place by a small stone.

_Where in the hell is Remus when you need him? He _likes_ to play with these things._

He glanced up at the sky. There was just the slightest hint of color in the east. He had to hurry.

--

Siobhan had decided to stay with Remus until he got his third tag. She reasoned that it was only fair: he had helped her get her ribbons, and if he needed her to be a decoy, she could be. It was she who noticed the light dancing among the trees to their right.

"Hinkypunk," Remus said quietly.

"Should we follow it?" she asked.

He debated it. It could be there because there was a bog nearby. But the Aurors had said there was nothing to hurt them in this area. A hinkypunk was very definitely a Dark Creature, however. Could it have been placed there deliberately to protect one of the red tags?

"Couldn't hurt to see where it goes," he said with a shrug.

They followed the creature, looking carefully from side to side for one of the ribbons.

"There!" Remus suddenly grabbed Siobhan's arm, stopping her. He pointed to a huge rock in the middle of a wide expanse of reeds and grass. The tag was pinned down on top of it by another rock. The hinkypunk had stopped and was looking at them with annoyance.

"Let's go!" said Siobhan. She took one step and then cried out as her foot slipped beneath the solid-seeming ground. Remus pulled her back, grimacing at the muck that covered her foot.

"Definitely a bog," Remus muttered under his breath. "Definitely a trap."

"So, how do we get it?" Siobhan asked, scraping her foot on a clump of weeds.

The hinkypunk seemed to gloat by hopping back and forth from one patch of grass to another. It held up its light and beckoned to them.

Remus shook his head. He knew better than to follow the creature.

There was a noise suddenly to their left, and they froze. It was too close for them to have time to hide… Then a familiar scent reached Remus's nose, and he started to relax even before the newcomer spoke.

"You know, if this is what we have to do just to get into the Auror program, I'm beginning to dread what we'll have to do to become full-fledged Aurors," commented Sirius, emerging from the trees.

"It hasn't been so bad," Remus contradicted.

"Where were you half an hour ago then? I had to fight a grindylow for my last tag."

"We've been following that," Siobhan said, pointing to the hinkypunk.

"Got your three, then, do you?" Remus asked, turning his attention back to the rock.

"Yeah. How about you?"

"Siobhan has hers. I need one more."

"I wouldn't have my three if it weren't for Remus," Siobhan told him, casting an obviously adoring glance at the young man standing beside her.

Sirius rolled his eyes. "It's getting late. If you're going to get the thing, you'd better get it."

"And how do you suggest I do that?" Remus glanced up at the sky, seeing the decidedly pink tinge to the gray.

"Follow the hinkypunk," Sirius said.

"You are out of your mind."

"No, listen. It wants to lead you into the deep muck, right? Well, it has to take you along a solid path for a while to lead you deeper into the bog. I say, follow it, but make sure you check each spot before you step. It should lead you close enough to get to the rock."

Suddenly, Remus laughed. "I'm an idiot."

"Finally realized that, did you?" Sirius said, with a raised eyebrow.

Remus deliberately took a step back, smile firmly in place. He looked at the rock, spun around, and then Disapparated with a faint pop. Instantly, there was a sharp crack and he reappeared—on top of the rock. He raised his hands and tilted his head as if waiting for applause.

Sirius and Siobhan obliged.

The third tag was quickly stuffed into his pocket with the other two, and he smiled at the hinkypunk, which was shaking its fist at him.

Suddenly, there was a sharp crack behind him. "Time's up!"

Remus spun around quickly, and his feet slipped out from beneath him. There was a flash of pain when his head hit the rock, and then darkness…

--

The Aurors' base camp was a ramshackle shed, barely larger than a Gryffindor dorm room. As the individual candidates finished the challenge, or were brought in by the Auror teams, they were dismissed from the camp, until only the three Marauders, Siobhan, and a handful of Aurors remained.

"Good thing he's got a hard head," Moody commented, looking at Remus, who was slumped against James on a bench nearby. Siobhan was holding a cold, bloody towel in her hand. Sirius was lurking beside them, a dark look on his face.

A woman with a Healer's badge on her Auror robes was kneeling next to Remus, carefully examining the gash on the young man's head. "I've seen worse," she announced. She opened her large dragon-leather Healer's kit and pulled out one vial then another until she found the one she wanted.

"Here. Drink this down," she said, handing it to him. "This will help with the headache that I know you have."

Remus took it and sipped at it. He grimaced and looked doubtfully at the Healer. "Go on, drink it," she insisted. "It's not going to kill you."

While he did, she opened a tube of ointment and squeezed a liberal amount on her fingers. "Now, this might hurt a little, but it will heal almost anything without scarring." For all her warning, however, it seemed as if her touch was gentle, and didn't seem to cause Remus any pain as she rubbed it onto the wound.

"All done," she announced with a smile. She started to repack her bag.

"Why does my tongue feel so numb?" Remus asked.

"Oh, don't worry about that. It goes away in just a little bit. It's just the aconite. And before you panic, yes, pure aconite can be deadly, but this is highly processed, and the little amount that goes into that potion won't hurt anyone."

"Aconite?" Sirius heard the panicky tone to Remus's whisper, and saw James's face go pale. In his mind, he heard Professor Slughorn's sonorous voice: "Aconite, also known as monkshood or wolfsbane…"

Wolfsbane. "Oh, shit," breathed Sirius.

Remus reached out and grabbed James's sleeve with a death grip, but his eyes met Sirius's. "I've got to get out of here."

"I know," Sirius whispered. He pulled Remus to his feet.

"What's going on?" Moody demanded.

The three Marauders froze. Sirius and James struggled to think of some kind of answer that would seem logical, yet get Remus out of here and to—where could they take him? Would St. Mungo's help a poisoned werewolf?

Remus suddenly whimpered loudly.

"What did you give him, MacMillan?" Moody asked.

The Healer looked puzzled. "Nothing that should be causing him any kind of trouble, other than a little numbness, maybe a little tingling…"

"He has a—sensitivity—to aconite," James finally offered. "An allergy."

And then Remus fell to his knees, arms wrapped tightly around his stomach.

Moody watched him with eyes that suddenly grew colder, if possible. "I've seen this before." He glanced from Sirius to James, then back to Remus again. "That boy's a werewolf."

Sirius and James exchanged glances.

"No, James," whispered Sirius. "No. We can't do this to him."

But James's eyes filled with tears. "He'll die right in front of us if we don't." He lifted his chin and looked right into Moody's eyes. "Yes, he's a werewolf."

Siobhan screamed and threw the bloody compress as far away from herself as possible.

Remus's face contorted with the pain from the growing fire in his belly.

The Auror stared at the young man at his feet and then turned to the Healer. "You got anything in that bag to empty his stomach? To get that stuff out of him?"

"Of course," she said, "But, if he's a werewolf…"

"Just do it, woman!" roared Moody.

She hurriedly began rummaging through her bag as Remus collapsed onto his side. James knelt, and pulled Remus's head onto his lap, brushing away tendrils of hair already damp with sweat.

Siobhan was sobbing loudly, her face in her hands.

"Someone get her away from here!" Moody ordered.

One of the other Aurors grabbed her and Apparated away without another word. The sudden silence was nearly deafening.

"Get him up," the Healer said to James and Sirius. She had a vial in her hand containing some kind of pink liquid.

They got Remus in a sitting position, leaning back against Sirius, who wrapped his arms around his friend, and kept whispering, "I'm sorry, Remus. I'm sorry."

They were all a bit stunned when he managed to say between clenched teeth. "Not—your—fault."

"If it weren't for me, you wouldn't be here at all," Sirius said.

The Healer forced Remus's jaws apart and emptied the vial into his mouth. "We'll need a bucket," she said. "It's going to be bad."

"Use that," Sirius suggested, pointing to the empty vial. "Transfigure it."

MacMillan had no sooner done that when Remus shuddered and whispered, "Sick…"

Sirius winced at the force of the werewolf's vomiting. James vanished what came up, trying not to notice the blood that was visible.

After a while, Remus sagged against Sirius, his eyes closed, struggling for breath.

"Cold," he muttered.

Sirius gazed up at James, who, in turn, looked at Moody. "Well, do something," the scarred wizard snapped. "Transfigure something! Conjure a warming spell!"

An Auror behind him muttered something, and ten seconds later, a thick woolen blanket was being draped over the sick young man. Sirius tried to move, to allow Remus to lie down, but his breathing seemed even more distressed then.

"Wolfsbane slows the heart beat and the breathing," the Healer said. "It's good for those who have had a bad scare, or have nervous problems. Unfortunately, in larger doses, or in this case, it slows things down until, well, until the lungs just stop working."

"Nice—to—know," Remus said, taking several seconds to say so.

James took off his glasses and wiped his eyes on his sleeve. "Should we take him to St. Mungo's? Would they be able to help?"

MacMillan hesitated and then laid her hand on Remus's shoulder. "Remus? We could take you to St. Mungo's, if you'd like. But they probably won't help you any more than I already have. Do you understand?"

James saw the furrows in his friend's face deepen, but he nodded again.

"Do you want to go there? Or do you want to go home?"

Remus's eyes shot open; his dismay was obvious to all of them. "Not home," he whispered.

"We'll take him to my flat," Sirius decided, his arms tightening around Remus. "We can take care of him there. Until you're better, Moony, you can stay with me, all right?"

Remus nodded.

Side-Along Apparition was something that Sirius had never tried before, so he made jokes about it as he pulled Remus to his feet. "I'll splinch us together, Moony—which would be better? My looks and your personality? Or your looks and my personality?"

"God help _me_ either way," James muttered.

--

They Apparated straight to Sirius's flat, and within minutes had Remus settled in bed, propped up by pillows. Against the white sheets, they could see the pale gray tone of his skin, which alarmed them more than they had been before. Occasionally, he'd whimper and bite his lip, not having the strength to do much more than that. His breathing was harsh in the stillness, and Sirius found himself talking far too much to cover the sound.

Moody had insisted MacMillan go with them. She left them almost right away, saying that she was going to try to find an antidote. She also added, "I think his parents should be notified. If this turns out to be fatal, they will no doubt want to see him before—you know."

Sirius turned and walked away from them. He couldn't think—he didn't want—this couldn't be happening.

Behind him, James was asking, "How much longer does he have? If it's going to be—" There was an audible gulp, "—fatal?"

"Four hours, maybe, at the most? It's all a guess. I've never had a werewolf as a patient. I can only base this on what I know about fresh aconite poisoning in a normal human being."

"Shit," whispered Sirius, feeling hot tears in his eyes. He went into the kitchen and pulled a bottle of Ogden's Old Firewhiskey and a glass out of the cabinet. With trembling hands, he poured an inch of the liquor and swallowed it in one gulp. James came in a moment later.

"Drinking isn't going to help things," he said gently.

"No," Sirius agreed.

James went to cabinet and got a glass for himself. "Should we call his parents?"

Sirius poured some whiskey into both glasses while he considered it. "Mr. Lupin wouldn't be so bad, but, oh Merlin, James…His mum? Here? With Moony d—" he couldn't bring himself to say the word.

"The Healer's right, though. They might want to see him before—"

Sirius knocked back the rest of the whiskey and then slammed the glass down on the table. "He's not going to die. I don't care what I have to do. He's not going to die," he said ferociously. But suddenly, his knees gave out, and he slumped to the floor. "Oh, Gods, James, what will we do without him?"

"We're not going to do without him," James said, kneeling next to Sirius and putting one arm around his shoulders. "We're going to go in there and pull him through this, all right? Don't be so bloody pessimistic."

Sirius consciously echoed Remus's words from before, hating the irony, "I'm a bloody realist."

--

Sirius and James took turns sitting beside the bed, talking and reading to Remus. They took turns because they couldn't be in the same room without joking because of the stress, which only made Remus want to laugh, even through the pain. It set him coughing and fighting for every breath.

"Should we call your mum and dad, Remus?" James asked.

Remus winced.

"They'll be mad at us if they know you're—sick—and we haven't called them," the bespectacled wizard pointed out gently.

"Not—yet," the werewolf finally whispered. "It's—peaceful—now. Just—read to me," he decided.

Sirius and James exchanged glances.

"Read to you?" Sirius asked. "That miserable book about magical creatures in Albania?"

"Want—to see—how it—turns out—before I—die," Remus gasped laboriously.

Sirius stared at him for a long moment and then stormed out of the room.

After a while, though, he returned, quietly, calmly, but with blood-shot eyes. Whatever demons he had fought seemed to have been subdued, at least for a time. He brought the book with him.

And before they knew it, an hour of Remus's life was gone.

--

Sirius was in the middle of a sentence when Remus suddenly drew a ragged breath and held it. The sudden silence shot spikes of fear all through the dark-haired wizard.

"Moony?" he asked tentatively.

"Hurts."

"Where?"

"Everywhere." And suddenly, he was rolling on his side, retching, though the Healer's emetic had already emptied his stomach.

Sirius screamed for James. After what seemed like forever, Remus groaned and leaned his head back. A quick spell cleaned up what little bit of bile had come up.

"Gods, Moony," James said, laying his hand on his friend's forehead. "You're freezing."

Sirius ran for another blanket, the one that Remus had been using on the couch while he had been staying at the flat. He was on his way back to the room when James yelled something that he couldn't understand. He charged the last few steps into the room, and stopped dead.

Remus was thrashing about uncontrollably.

--

They waited for another half an hour, during which Remus had another convulsion, and seemed confused about why they were in a flat in London, and not at Hogwarts.

"We have to call his parents," James said, when Remus was quiet again.

Sirius nodded miserably.

"And Peter."

"If you're going to have Wormtail here, call Lily." Anguish and grief made Sirius's voice harsh when he added, "If we're on a death watch, everyone who loves him should be here."

James had just Disapparated away to find Mr. Lupin when Sirius heard someone knock on the door. He went to answer it quickly, wondering who it could be. After all, Lily was in the bedroom with Remus, helping him through an occasional bout with dry heaves, while Peter waited to run for anything that might be needed.

The Healer, MacMillan, was on the other side of the door. "I brought something," she said, pushing her way past Sirius and heading straight for the bedroom. "It's what they use at St. Mungo's, if they've a mind to try to heal someone with aconite poisoning. It's not really an antidote; it's a stimulant. It only counteracts the depressive affect it's having on his body. It may not even work, but it's all I have for now."

Lily suddenly screamed, and they dashed in to see Remus in the throes of another convulsion.

"Get him on his side," the Healer commanded. "Has this happened before?"

"Two—no, three times," Sirius answered.

MacMillan looked at her watch. "It shouldn't be long before we know."

"Before we know what?" asked Peter.

Lily gave him a disgusted look.

Awareness sank in. "Oh."

Sirius retreated to the doorway, closing his eyes at the sound of Remus's struggles to breathe. _No, it won't be long now…_

Before he could scream at himself to shut up, James was behind him, putting a hand on his shoulder. "His dad's coming. He says he wants to see how bad things are before he calls his mum."

"Thank Merlin for that," Sirius muttered.

"What's MacMillan doing here?" James asked, so quietly that only Sirius could hear.

"She says she's found something. It may not work."

Several minutes later, a familiar voice called to them. "Boys?"

"In here, Mr. Lupin," Sirius said.

Remus opened his eyes, startled.

Sirius and James stepped aside to let the older man enter the room, brushing soot from the Floo from his sleeves. He paused for a moment at the doorway, taking in his son's appearance. Remus's confused stare disappeared as the man moved quickly across the room to draw the younger man up into his embrace.

--

Sirius had gone out into the kitchen to prepare some tea for everyone. James had followed him, and was idly leaning against the counter. The tea kettle had just started to whistle when Remus's dad came into the kitchen.

"Who's going to explain this all to me?" John Lupin asked. He stood with his hands in his pockets, reminding Sirius so much of Remus that he shivered.

"I suppose I'm to blame," he finally said, after glancing at James. "I rather talked him into it."

Mr. Lupin looked up at the ceiling and sighed deeply. "Sirius, no one talks Remus into anything unless he _wants_ to be talked into it. I'm not so blinded by paternal affection that I don't know that about him. Start at the beginning."

And so, by turns and with many interjections, Sirius and James told the man everything that had happened from the time that Sirius had read the article in the _Prophet_ about Auror recruitment.

When they had finished, Mr. Lupin leaned on the back of one of the kitchen chairs and stared at them until they squirmed with discomfort. "He's received _nine_ rejection letters? Already?"

Sirius shrugged. "That's what he said. We," he looked at James for confirmation, "know of seven for sure."

An uncomfortable silence fell, and then Remus's dad straightened. "You aren't to blame, Sirius. No matter what might happen, I don't want you taking this onto your shoulders. Understood?"

"Yes sir."

"We'll talk a little more about this later. I do have more questions. But, for now, I'm going to be with him." But at the door, he stopped and turned back. "He did well this week, then?"

"Of course," Sirius said, almost puzzled.

"If this hadn't happened—" The man stopped, seemingly unable to think of how to finish the sentence.

_Or maybe he knows and just didn't want to say it_, James thought suddenly. Aloud, he said, "He would have made it. Moody even said he was an Auror in the making."

John Lupin lightly traced the pattern in the woodwork of the doorframe. Then very softly, he said, "I don't know if he's ever told you, but he was bitten because I had antagonized a werewolf named Fenrir Greyback. There have been thousands of times since then that I think about what I said to Greyback, and wonder what I could have said instead. But, it happened. And because of one stupid remark, a young man's life is made a hundred times more difficult before it begins.

"So, Sirius, don't feel guilty about trying to help him achieve his potential. You were helping him accomplish something he's wanted badly for years." His blue eyes bored into Sirius's. "Any guilt for his _not_ being able to achieve his potential is mine to carry. Understood?"

Sirius couldn't speak, so he nodded.

The older man gently pounded the door jamb with his fist, then turned and walked away.

Sirius and James watched him go. "That's what Remus will look like in thirty years," James suddenly said. "I never realized how many of Moony's ways of moving are his father's. He almost made my heart stop just by standing there with his hands in his pockets."

Sirius barked out a chuckle. "I was thinking the same thing."

Lily suddenly burst into the room, a broad smile on her face. "The healer thinks it's working!"

James and Sirius bolted for the bedroom.

Remus's breathing did seem a little less labored, though his brow was still deeply furrowed.

"There's still a long way to go," the Healer said, with a cautious smile. "But I think he's turned a corner."

Sirius touched Remus's leg gently. "Does it still hurt, Moony?"

The werewolf nodded slightly, but didn't open his eyes.

"Do you want me to call your mother?" Mr. Lupin asked quietly.

Remus groaned. "Please Dad, no."

"What am I supposed to tell her about all this?"

"Don't tell."

"You want me to lie to her?"

There was something in the tone that made Remus look up at his father.

"I don't lie as well as you do," Mr. Lupin said.

Remus grimaced.

"If you were worried about finding work, you should have talked to me."

"Mr. Lupin," said James. "With all due respect, I think it might be better to wait until Moo—Remus is feeling better. Then you can yell at him all you want."

The older man looked down at Remus, and they could see the transformation—a softening of his eyes, and easing of tension around his mouth and jaw—that told them more than words how worried he had been about his son. He gently brushed the hair out of the blue eyes so much like his own, and smiled. "You know I will yell at you later, right?"

There was the slightest twitch of a smile.

Mr. Lupin seated himself on the edge of the bed and took his son's hand, and didn't say another word.

--

Three hours later, Remus's breathing was almost completely back to normal, and his skin tone could definitely be called pale, not the horrible shade it had been before. MacMillan looked rather pleased with herself when she announced that her services were no longer needed.

Mr. Lupin's grin was never wider as when he bent over his son to kiss him on the forehead. "I'm going to leave now, but I'll be back later, all right?"

Remus nodded.

"I may have to bring your mother. I can't—I won't—lie to her. Understood?"

Again his son nodded.

When he was gone, the Healer started to gather her things in order to leave. She handed a small bottle filled with a clear liquid to Lily. "This is the stimulant. Give this to him in four hours. Make sure he drinks it all."

"Notice she doesn't trust you idiots to give it to him," Lily said with a smirk.

"Thank God," Sirius thought he heard Remus mutter.

MacMillan also handed Lily a Strengthening Potion and one for pain. She made sure that Lily knew when and how to administer them, and then said goodbye to Remus.

Once she was gone, James went to the kitchen. Now that Remus was out of danger, he found himself desperately in need of a cup of tea and a snack—and figured that everyone else needed some kind of refreshment as well. He put the kettle on to heat, and then busied himself with setting out some mismatched mugs. Lily came out as he was reaching for the tin of tea bags.

"Are you not capable of making a proper cup of tea?" she asked him.

He shrugged. "It's what Remus bought."

"Remus will eat or drink anything—even whatever Sirius prepares."

"I'll have you know that Sirius can make damned good shepherd's pie."

"Oh, really?" Her skepticism was obvious.

"My mum taught him how. She's worried about how he's going to manage on his own."

"Your mum's shepherd's pie is delicious, but I have the tiniest problem believing that Sirius would pay attention long enough to learn how to do it. Besides, he doesn't follow rules; how can I believe he'd follow a recipe?"

"And yet, he does."

Lily had worked her way across the kitchen and was now standing in front of James. "I have never been as frightened as I have been today."

James wrapped her in his arms, holding her as tightly as he could without her eyes bulging. "I know. Me too." They indulged in a brief—maybe it wasn't too brief—kiss.

"Oh, for the love of—" Sirius came in and threw his hands up in the air. "Moony is at death's door, and all you two can think about is snogging in the kitchen. You do realize the tea kettle is squealing, don't you?"

Lily laughed and pulled away from James. "I'm going to make the tea. You two go back in and help Peter entertain Remus."

--

Moody leaned forward. "But if the boy lives, I want him. He's got speed and brains, and frankly, I think we can use one of his kind. You know what Voldemort's up to now. If we could get him in to some of those meetings…"

"It would be of great advantage to us, yes," his friend tentatively agreed. "But do you think the others will have a difficult time accepting him, knowing what he is?"

The Auror muttered a curse. "If I can accept him, if I'm willing to take him on, I don't see how anyone else can have any doubts. He'll be my responsibility."

The other man stroked his beard thoughtfully. "Don't you think that will only cause resentment?"

"In the others? Or in him? He'll be hurt if they don't trust him, yes, but he'll understand. I know after a while, after they see what he's capable of, they'll be fine."

"What about his friends?" the other man asked with a glimmer of amusement in his blue eyes. "There are very few secrets between them. If you take him on…" He let the sentence trail off.

"Do you trust them?" Moody asked. "I'd take the two of them. Quick thinkers, those two. Smart. They'd be good for us." He took a drink of wine. "Has that Black boy really cut all ties with his family?"

The slender fingers stopped their gentle stroking. "Yes. There's no question of it. And he was the one who severed the ties; because of Potter's and Lupin's influence mainly."

"I think it's peculiar that a kid from one of the Darker families around could be friends with Lupin, who's a half-blood to begin with, and a werewolf to boot."

"They're all from Gryffindor."

Moody snorted. "That figures. So. Do I get him? Lupin, I mean."

The man leaned forward. "I think it's a wonderful idea. Get me Potter and Black too, while you're at it."

The Auror smiled.

"Oh, there is a fourth boy in their little—'pack,'" the older wizard said, sitting back and contemplating a lemon drop he had taken out of a small, silver dish on his desk. "You might want to consider him, too. He's not quite of the same caliber, but he's got heart, and he's extremely loyal to the other three boys. He could be an asset."

Alastor nodded.


	3. Chapter 3: Danger

Disclaimer: Don't own 'em. Wish I did.

Danger

A/N: Where would I be without my beta-extraordinaire, Dreamer, who has to be the world's best beta? Thank you! And to SortingHat47—thank you for being a Good Thing! (BTW: where's the sequel to "Summoned"?)

Deep gratitude to all those who have read, enjoyed—and reviewed!

It was rather late in the evening, and Remus was actually up and making his way into the kitchen when his father fire-called. "Are you supposed to be out of bed, son?" he asked doubtfully.

"I've taken all my potions, like a good boy," Remus said, the corner of his mouth hitching up. "But really, I feel fine."

"You know we'd be after him if he were doing anything wrong, Mr. Lupin," Lily said, coming into the room from the kitchen. "I've just made dinner, though, and we thought we'd let him try to come out to eat."

"Oh, we were going to bring take-out for you lot," Mr. Lupin said, in a disappointed tone, "for taking care of our boy."

"You talk as though I'm six, and you need to pay the babysitters," Remus huffed.

"You've told how many lies to your mother and me about what you've been doing? It's as if you _were_ six all over again, lying about walking on the carpet with muddy shoes!"

Remus rubbed the back of his neck. The lecture would be coming soon, and by the sharpness in his dad's normally calm voice, it promised to be ugly.

Lily came to his side and slipped an arm through his. "Are you Flooing, then, Mr. Lupin? Should I set a place for you and Mrs. Lupin?" She felt Remus's tension at the mention of his mother.

"Since you're already eating, we'll just Apparate up. We'll stop and have a bite somewhere first. And yes, Remus, your mother is coming. She's not happy."

Remus sighed. "I didn't think she would be."

John Lupin seemed ready to say something else, but instead, he sighed too. Lily coughed lightly to cover her giggle at how much alike the two sounded. "We'll be there in about an hour," the man informed them.

"What in the world were you thinking?" The woman's shrill voice cut through any pretense at conversation that Sirius, James, and Lily were making in the living room.

They heard Remus's voice, calm and imperturbable, though not the words.

"Did you honestly think you'd get away with it?"

Sirius would have loved to hear Remus's answer to that one. He got up from the chair he had been sitting in and edged toward the kitchen door. Lily and James watched him but didn't try to stop him. Apparently they were just as curious.

Mrs. Lupin's voice lowered several degrees in volume, but not quite enough. "It was Sirius's idea, wasn't it?"

"No, Mum, it wasn't. I got a letter from the Ministry—"

"Where is the letter?" Mr. Lupin interrupted.

"It's in my book, in the other room."

"Get it."

"Yes sir."

Sirius bounced back into his chair and was sitting there with his hands primly in his lap when Remus came through the door. The werewolf gave his friend a suspicious glance, but went on into the bedroom. James followed him.

"Do you want one of us to come in with you? To take some of the attention off you?"

Remus shook his head. "No point. They kicked you out of the room in the first place. Besides, I just want to get this over with."

"They don't have to do this tonight, you know. You can tell them to wait. I mean, gods, Remus. You nearly died only a matter of hours ago."

"I'm fine. Werewolf constitution, you know." The book was lying on a small table near the bed, and Remus pulled the letter out of it. Slowly he opened it, and let his eyes scan it. He suddenly looked at James.

"What?"

A gleam appeared in Remus's eyes—James couldn't swear it wasn't tears. "It would have been brilliant to have done this—with you and Sirius."

"Yeah, it would have been," James agreed softly.

Remus pushed past him and went back to the kitchen.

Sirius didn't have to stand near the kitchen door to hear what was going on now. The argument between parents and son had been going on for an hour, with no sign of abating any time soon. Lily had got paler and more upset as time had gone on. James had tousled his hair to the point that Sirius was sure the next step was to pull it out. Sirius himself had risen at least twice in order to go into the kitchen, but had been pulled back by James.

Lily had quietly but fervently begged James to let Sirius go. "Remus isn't well enough for this!"

"He's holding his own," James said. "They have to work this out."

"Do you think they can?" Sirius asked, skeptically.

James's expression was pained.

"Didn't you think of the consequences, Remus?" Mrs. Lupin was demanding. "Do you even know what the consequences would be?"

"Yes, I knew!" Remus shouted back. "But you know what, Mum? Maybe it'd be a whole lot easier in Azkaban than the life I'm looking at right now!"

Sirius sat up straight, holding his breath in shock. James and Lily had frozen as well and were staring toward the kitchen. There was the sound of a chair being pushed back, legs scraping across the floor. Through the doorway, Sirius glimpsed Remus. The werewolf was pacing; it was a prelude to stalking. Never a good sign, he thought. Would Remus's parents know that?

"Why didn't you tell me?" Remus went on. His voice, normally so controlled, was almost unrecognizable to them because of the anger. "Why didn't you fucking tell me that I was going to have so much trouble getting a job?"

There was the slightest moment of silence and then both parents began to speak. "Remus, don't you dare use that language…"

"Remus, there are options…"

"The options _suck,_Dad!"

"Remus John Lupin!"

Glass shattered and Sirius jumped to his feet and started for the kitchen. He wasn't going to leave Moony alone at this moment. There had been only one other time when he had known Remus to be this angry, and—Sirius didn't want to think about it.

"I am eighteen years old, Mum! I am not eight! I can use whatever fucking language I bloody well please! If you don't like it, you can bloody well leave!"

"If you want treated like an adult, you will act like an adult!" Mr. Lupin snapped, rising to his feet as Sirius got to the doorway.

"And you've been so great at being the adult!" Remus sneered. "You hid things from me! Why? Were you were afraid that I'd somehow blame you? I had the right to know! You should have told me! McGonagall should have told me! _Someone_ should have been the adult here and had the balls—or the guts, Mum, if that'll make you happy—to tell me that I'll never be able to find a good job! Someone should have told me I was wasting my time getting an education that I will never be able to use!"

Mr. Lupin was staring at his son in shock. Sirius wondered if this were the first time that he had ever seen Remus so angry, and realized it probably was. "Remus, that's not true. There are jobs out there. There is something you can do—"

"Until they find out I'm a werewolf," Remus said bitterly.

"No, there are people out there who won't be—" the older wizard fumbled for a word.

"Worried?" Remus supplied in harsh helpfulness. "Scared? Terrified?"

"Remus, dear, I understand you're upset about not being an Auror, like James and Sirius, but are you sure you'd want to be an Auror anyhow?" Mrs. Lupin suddenly asked. "As your father said, there are other jobs."

Remus closed his eyes, and Sirius knew the other young man was fighting something very strong and angry within himself. "Mum," he finally said, his voice strangled from throttling emotion. "Being an Auror was something I dreamed about for years, until Dad told me that the Ministry wouldn't hire me because I'm a werewolf. I didn't want to believe him at the time. I thought he just didn't want me to have such a dangerous job. But I knew he wouldn't lie to me about something so important. So, yes, I knew the letter was more than likely a mistake, but I wanted to prove to them that I—a werewolf—could do it. Yes, I could have gone to Azkaban—I still could, I suppose. But I couldn't help but think that if I _did _get into the program…"

"But, darling, it's such a dangerous job! So many Aurors die so young!"

Remus's patience snapped again. "Do you even read the shit that the Ministry gives you about living with a werewolf? Do you know how long a werewolf lives, Mum? Do you realize that at this point, I'm practically middle-aged? Have you read the stuff that tells about how the stress and strain on my body from all the transformations will drag me into my grave by the time I'm fifty?"

"Remus!" Mr. Lupin slapped his hand down on the table.

Sirius inhaled sharply.

Remus's mother said weakly, "Sweetheart, you know the Ministry lies about—"

"Stop denying what I am!" shouted Remus. "I—am—not—normal, Mum! I am never going to be normal! I'm not even considered _human_!"

Mrs. Lupin dissolved into tears.

"That is enough!" John Lupin yelled.

But Remus was not going to be shouted down or denied his chance to say exactly what he was thinking and feeling. "Yes, you're right, Dad," he snarled. "Only it's _me_ who's had enough. Enough of pretending that I'm going to have any kind of a normal life. Enough of pretending that I'm going to have a job, or a house, or a family of my own. I'm a fucking Dark creature! _A creature_! I can't get a job with the Aurors—not because I don't have the ability! I can't have it because they can't trust me not to tear out their throats at the full moon!"

There was a loud wail from Remus's mother, and even Sirius cringed.

"You will apologize to your mother, young man, and you'll do it now!"

"Apologize for what? For telling her things that she should have accepted about me a long time ago? Or should I apologize for being a monster? I'm a fucking boggart to half of the wizarding world, for fuck's sake!"

Mr. Lupin's hand came up, but whether he was just going to point, or make some other kind of gesture, Sirius wasn't sure. All he knew was that when _his_ father raised his hand that quickly, with that look, it usually meant a bruise along Sirius's cheekbone…

"No!" He grabbed Remus's arm and pulled him away from the table, from crying Mrs. Lupin, from furious Mr. Lupin. "Stop!" He moved in front of Remus, and put one hand on his friend's chest. "Stop it, Remus!"

John Lupin turned his back to them and forcefully shoved his hands in his pockets. Sirius looked at Mrs. Lupin. Her hands were covering her face, and she was sobbing as if her heart were broken. Perhaps it was. With a quick glance at Remus that told him to stay where he was, Sirius went over and picked up a handful of napkins for the woman.

"Thank you, dear," she snuffled, reaching for the napkins.

Sirius stepped back in front of Remus, trying to catch his friend's eye. Remus had his eyes on his father, though, watching and waiting. There was a definite predatory look in his eye. Sirius had seen it in the wolf's eyes as a desire for dominance. He was suddenly glad he had pulled Remus away from his father. Not for Remus's sake, but for Mr. Lupin's. "Look, Mr. Lupin, Mrs. Lupin, maybe you should leave. Remus has been through a lot today—"

"This has taken us by surprise," Mr. Lupin suddenly said, turning back around, ignoring Sirius altogether. "I—I hardly know what to say." He took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, Remus."

The younger Lupin's voice shook as he asked, "About what, Dad? Which part are you sorry for? The lies? The fact that now it's all catching up to me? Which part?"

"Remus, please don't be like this," his mother suddenly pleaded. "We don't want you to be angry. We didn't want you to be hurt."

Remus looked at his mother, but didn't offer the apology that they all thought he would. Instead, he stepped around Sirius to get closer to his father, staring him right in the eyes. "It's too late for that. Why didn't you tell me?"

"For the same reason that Professor McGonagall didn't, I'd guess," his father finally said with a sigh, deliberately looking down and away from his son's face. "We hoped it wouldn't be so difficult for you. You worked so hard, and had such great marks, and even greater talent. We didn't think it was necessary to worry you about something that might not have happened."

"You thought it would be better for me to be unprepared and—stupid?"

"Not stupid. _Never_ stupid." John Lupin snapped, his eyes coming back up to meet his son's.

Remus didn't say anything, but the tension emanating him spoke volumes. _But I was unprepared; I had no idea._

"I wish now that I'd never gone to Hogwarts," Remus finally muttered, his shoulders slumping as anger suddenly gave way to despair. If Sirius hadn't been in the room, he would never have believed his friend had said it. He turned, jaw dropping, but John Lupin spoke first.

"Don't _ever_ say that. You deserved to go! You earned the right to go!"

"But I—"

"No! You listen to me! You have the skill. You have the talent—_you_ know you do. So you're having a hard time finding a job. Do you realize how much more difficult it would be for you without an education? You might have found yourself in one of those werewolf communities, just barely human. I—we—didn't want that for you. And that's not going to happen to you. You are a fully educated, fully trained wizard, and there's not one organization in all of Great Britain that shouldn't want you."

"But Dad, they _don't_. That's the bloody _point_."

"Then you look—somewhere else."

"Out of the country? Where?"

"You've just started looking, Remus. Sometimes the right job takes a while to find. We'll figure something out. We always have before."

The older man closed the distance between them until they were now only an arm's length away from each other.

"I wanted this so much," Remus suddenly whispered.

"I know."

Sirius crept out of the room.

Lily and James were still sitting on the couch, their arms around each other.

"Is everyone still alive out there?" asked James very quietly.

"Yeah."

"Is Remus all right?"

Sirius hesitated. "He will be."

There was a sudden knock at the door.

"Whoever it is picked a good time to show up," Lily said rolling her eyes.

"It might have been better if they had shown up fifteen minutes ago," James pointed out.

Sirius shook his head. "No." He jerked a thumb in the direction of the kitchen. "That was something that's been coming for a while now. It needed to be said."

He opened up the door to see Healer MacMillan standing there. "Hello, Black. I told Lupin I'd stop by one more time—how is he?"

"Well, other than the knockdown, drag-out fight he and his parents are having in the kitchen—"

The Healer's smile faded. "What do you mean 'fight?'"

"Oh, it's been awful," Lily said. "I've never heard Remus yell like that."

"Are you people aware of how sick he was?" MacMillan demanded.

"Well, yeah, but there's not a lot you can do when—"

"Oh, yes, there is." And with that, the Healer marched into the other room. There were sharp words spoken, and in a moment, a furious Healer pushed Remus out of the kitchen and toward the bedroom. Now that the anger of before had somewhat eased, Sirius could see how pale Remus was, and how utterly exhausted he looked.

Before he could follow them into the bedroom, someone else knocked at the door.

"It's like the Three bloody Broomsticks on a Hogsmeade weekend!" muttered Sirius, opening the door.

Alastor Moody stood there, wand aimed right at Sirius's face. "And just like that, you're dead, Black. Don't you know you live in dangerous times? You need to have constant vigilance! You don't just open the damned door! Ask who it is first, and don't stand right in front of the door while you do. Got it?"

"Uh, yes, sir. Sorry, sir." He stood there for a moment, staring at the Auror. "Oh, won't you come in?"

Moody thumped in, and Sirius wondered how they hadn't heard that wooden leg on the steps. Still, the Auror probably had forgotten more tricks of stealth than Sirius would ever know.

The Lupins had come out of the kitchen, and were standing in front of the fireplace, looking uncertain.

"I want to apologize," Mr. Lupin began.

Sirius shook his head. "No, don't, Mr. Lupin. It's all right."

"I'm sure we made you uncomfortable," Mr. Lupin began again, "and that wasn't our intention." He put a hand on Sirius's shoulder. "You should know that I wasn't going to hit him." He ignored Lily's sudden sharp intake of breath. "I've never hit him, and I'm not going to start now. I regret making you think that."

"It's all right, Mr. Lupin," Sirius said again.

"Still, I know that my temper got the better of me." He shook his head. "I never realized how deep Remus's anger went. It was disturbing, and, I admit, I reacted poorly to that."

Lily said, soothingly, "You're just worried about Remus. Just as we are."

"That's just it," Mrs. Lupin said shrilly. "He does these things and doesn't stop to think of how dangerous they are. I mean, honestly, the Aurors? What was he thinking? I swear there are times he's trying to break my heart…" The tears welled up in her eyes.

Sirius just stared at her, blinking slowly. Did the woman not get it? Wasn't she in that kitchen listening? Didn't she realize this was about more than just the Aurors?

Healer MacMillan came out of the bedroom. "He's almost asleep already. If you're going to say goodbye, you'd better do it now."

Mrs. Lupin started to walk toward the room, but her husband caught her by the arm. "No. We'll see him tomorrow."

"John, I—"

"No," he said firmly. "We've—talked—enough tonight. It's late."

Still protesting, Mrs. Lupin watched as her husband threw a pinch of Floo Powder into the fireplace. With an angry look, she stepped into the green flames, calling out their address and whirled away. Immediately, the tension in the room eased.

Mr. Lupin took a deep breath and reached again for the can on the mantel.

Alastor Moody suddenly stopped him. "You're Lupin's father?"

"Oh, sorry!" James said quickly. "We should have introduced you." He rectified that little problem then stepped back to Lily's side.

"I was wondering if I might have a word with you," Moody said.

Lupin looked surprised. "Me? Certainly."

"You might want to tell your wife," the Auror said, motioning to the fireplace. "It might take some time."

Moody and the elder Lupin walked slowly down the street. John Lupin had his hands in his pockets and his head slightly bowed, looking every bit like a man with much on his mind. Alastor Moody kept his eyes moving constantly, eying up every shadow, every piece of paper, every leaf. Finally, he broke the silence. "Your boy did well this week."

"So the boys told me."

"You have reason to be proud of him."

"I've always been proud of him," said Lupin firmly.

"He's a good defense man. And with those reflexes and overactive senses of his, he's definitely a force to be reckoned with." Moody stopped to peer intently into an alley.

Lupin noticed, and stopped to wait for the Auror a couple of steps away. "He's strong," he said with a shrug. "He's always been strong. The wolf would have destroyed him if he hadn't been."

"He's got the strongest Protego I've ever seen for someone his age."

"He's got a strong Protego for anyone of any age," Remus's dad corrected.

"You taught him that." It was said very matter-of-factly.

"I had to. I had to teach him how to defend himself. I knew there'd always be teenagers or adults who might attack him if they suspected what he was. I took him to get his wand when he was eight. I thought he'd never go to Hogwarts; that I'd have to teach him at home. So, I started him young, I admit it. On defense spells mainly. And a few healing spells." His eyes took on a faraway look as if remembering something, and then he blinked it all away rapidly. "His injuries after the full moon were getting worse. I had to show him how to heal some of it so he wouldn't bleed to death before I got to him. If he could, that is."

"Practical," grunted Moody.

They continued walking. "You know, if it weren't for the bloody Ministry," Moody said, "I'd take him on. Problem is, I think the Ministry would ruin him. _You_ know they would."

"Oh?" Lupin tilted his head in Moody's direction. The streetlight they were passing revealed the curious look on his face.

"Did you ever tell him you worked for the Ministry?"

A slight raising of the eyebrows was the only sign that the other man had been surprised by Moody's question. "No, I never did. But he probably knows. He's bright. He works things out. When he does work something out, he's likely to keep it close to his chest until you mention it first. Knows how to keep a secret, our Remus."

"I remembered hearing your name. 'Got a problem with a Magical Creature? Call Lupin.' I called on you a couple times myself." Moody smiled, though the scars on his face made it look rather sinister.

"I remember."

They had reached the corner by this point. Moody swung to the right without warning; John Lupin had to take slightly longer steps to catch up. Another man was coming toward them, and the Auror moved to Lupin's left so that he would be closer to the stranger. The man noticed Moody's scrutiny and stepped onto the street to pass them. Moody grunted with satisfaction, glancing back over his shoulder to watch the man cross the street.

It was then that he picked the conversation back up. "I did some checking on your boy—on his studies at Hogwarts. He's got your touch with creatures."

"Are you surprised?" Lupin chuckled. "No matter where we've gone, I've always been able to get a good job exterminating or relocating creatures. I tend to bring my work home with me though. Remus knew what a grindylow was before he'd seen an elephant."

"When I saw how well he'd done in Magical Creatures, and remembered the name, I put two and two together… I remember your leaving. Your resignation shocked a lot of people."

"I had no choice. When Remus got bitten, and I thought of all the dealings I'd had with werewolves—I couldn't risk being in a situation where I would have to choose between my son and my work." He sighed. "I knew how they treated werewolves. I didn't want to be part of an organization that believed my son's humanity was anything less than it is."

"The Ministry can be hard. Your boy would be jaded in months. It's a bloody miracle he isn't already. Or is he?"

"He's a realist. He understands. He might not always be happy, but he understands."

"That's why I'm almost glad I can't make him an Auror."

"Being an Auror is something that he dreamed of for years, until his fourth year at Hogwarts. That's when I dashed his hopes by telling him the Aurors wouldn't have him." Lupin stopped at a shop window and peered at a display of television sets. "I saw what that did to him. So, after that, when he talked about jobs and careers and possibilities, I couldn't do it to him again. It was—a mistake to keep it from him. It's almost got him killed. But, I couldn't destroy his hopes and dreams again."

Moody was silent, and after a moment, John Lupin went on. "I've seen him lose the dream of having a normal life. I've seen him have to give up friends, dreams of jobs—and I won't even go into the pain I know he faces when he meets a girl he likes. He finally said today that he's convinced he has no chance for a wife and children of his own." He looked at Moody, and the Auror could see the man's anguish. "There are times I don't know how he goes on. If he would lose those friends of his, I don't think he would."

They started walking again. They reached the end of the next block, and Moody again motioned to the right. It was another half a block before Moody cleared his throat noisily. "What if I told you I had something in mind for him? A job to make the most of his abilities?"

Lupin gave him a quick, sharp look. "I'd tell you that I'd be forever in your debt. What are you thinking?"

Moody seemed to consider the question very carefully. "You know what's been going on, Lupin. You married a Muggle-born. You'd be stupid not to be worried about her—and Remus, too. You know the time's coming when every wizard is going to have to choose what side he's on. The Aurors can't take on the fight by themselves. Our hands get tied by protocol and what's popular."

"But, as Sirius so succinctly put it earlier to me, when he was telling me about this plan of theirs, 'you get to make a difference' if you're an Auror."

"Ah, things are black and white to that one. Your boy sees shades of gray."

"Because he _is_ a shade of gray."

"I'll grant you that. This war—and make no doubt about it, it is a war—is going to tear the Ministry apart. I can even name three or four Aurors right now who believe Voldemort might have the right idea."

Lupin sighed. "It's hard to believe that wizards and witches who have been sworn to protect us from Dark magic-users might actually side with them."

"And yet it happens. But you know, your boy is going to want to fight," Moody said.

"Yes, he probably will."

"He's strong. He's daring. He doesn't mind the danger."

"He was desperate when he went into this mess."

"Maybe. But if the war goes on for any great length of time, we'll all be a bit desperate."

"So what are you on about, Moody? Remus can't be an Auror, we both know that. You just said you're glad he won't be. But how can he fight otherwise?"

"Sometimes," said Moody quietly but firmly, "you've got to take things into your own hands."

John Lupin reared back a bit, a startled look on his face. "You want to make a mercenary out of him?"

"No. Not exactly." They reached the end of the block and automatically made the turn to the right. "I know of a group that's forming. A group especially formed to fight Voldemort and all he stands for. It will need people to get into places the Aurors can't—to collect information and process it like the Ministry won't. It will need people who can think fast on their feet, and be quicker with their wands. Think that would appeal to your Remus?"

"Why are you asking me?"

"Because I'm going to ask him. But he'd be right on the front lines fighting. It's not going to be pleasant. He'll see things and do things that we'd both rather he didn't have to. And he'll have to do it without telling you a thing. Can you and your wife support him without asking him questions? Can you heal him without asking him how he got hurt?"

Lupin was quiet for a long moment. "I don't know if we could. But, as I said, Remus holds things in, and he holds things back. We probably wouldn't know nearly as much as you think we would." He shook his head. "My wife—Merlin knows I love her, but—she might have some difficulty with not asking questions."

"Do you think you and Remus could come up with enough stories to cover what he's doing?"

"You're asking me to lie to my wife?"

"For the sake of giving your son a purpose? And to save the world from that bastard, Voldemort? Yes."

They made the next right turn and were now back onto the street of Sirius's flat.

"Can I ask why you're asking me this?" Lupin suddenly asked. "I have the feeling that if you would be asking any other young man to join you—James, for example—you wouldn't be having this conversation with _his_ father."

Moody shrugged. "That's probably true. And to be honest, I had no intention of telling you about this when I came here tonight. But, thing is…well, I notice things. I've been watching your boy this week. I've been watching _you_ since we've been walking." He stopped in the doorway of a small grocery store, just two doors down from Sirius's flat. "I see you in Remus. Hell, just look at how you're standing right now. That's the way he stands: hands in his pockets, head tilted, shoulders slumped…" He laughed gruffly. "The two of you are close. He'd never lie to you unless he knew the truth was going to hurt you. And the fact is, the things I'm going to want him to do might hurt him, and they'd hurt _you_ knowing he was doing them."

"You _do_ want him to kill someone," Lupin breathed.

"If he has to, yes."

"Gods."

"It's a damned _war_, Lupin."

"I—know." The other man was struggling for words. Moody sensed it and gave him the time he needed. "We've had to be very aware of the fact that he could take someone's life once a month, and we've done everything to prevent that from happening."

"I'm not using him like he's Fenrir Greyback," Moody said.

John Lupin winced audibly.

"I need him to counter what Greyback's doing," Moody explained. "I need him as a man, not a wolf."

There was a short humorless chuckle. "And this is supposed to make me feel better?"

"He won't tell you if he knows it'll hurt you," Moody repeated. "And you'll know he's lying, and you won't be able to get answers out of him." He took a deep breath. "This will tear the two of you apart, and I'm smart enough to see that."

"Does our relationship matter that much? Even for the sake of the wizarding world?" Lupin asked, sounding bitter.

"There will be enough families destroyed by what's going on, and by what's coming," Moody replied. "I want to keep as many families intact as I can."

John Lupin kicked at the brick wall beneath the shop window with the toe of his loafer. "And if I say I don't want you to talk to him?"

"I'll do it anyway. I need him."

"And then he really will lie to me."

"He may decide he doesn't want to be part of this. He may think you won't approve, and that'll keep him out of it."

"No." Lupin shook his head. "I know him. He'll want to do the right thing." A brief, sarcastic chuckle escaped him. "He told us earlier that life in Azkaban would be preferable to whatever uncertainty he's facing now. How could I refuse any opportunity for him to feel needed, or wanted, or valued?" He drew a deep breath, and extended his hand. "Take care of my son, Moody."

There was a noise: a door slamming? Something falling? Remus woke up and experienced the disorientation one gets from waking up abruptly in an unfamiliar place. It only took a moment to remember that he was in Sirius's bed, and only a fraction of a second more to remember why he was there.

"I lived," he whispered.

"That you did," came a gruff voice from the doorway.

Remus flipped over, hand reaching automatically to the small table beside the bed for his wand. His hand met with air, and his brain reminded him, belatedly, that he had no idea where his wand was at that minute. He lay there feeling completely incompetent and unprotected, and utterly foolish.

"And just like that, you're dead," Moody said, stumping into the room, holding his own wand out in front of himself.

"You surprised me," Remus admitted.

"Well, hell's fire, lad, what did you think a Death Eater would do to you if you were an Auror? I don't think he's going to say, 'Let me give you a minute, old chap, to go get your wand.'" His mock upper-class British accent made them both smile.

The younger man pulled himself up so that he was sitting back against the headboard. "I guess I would hope I had a friend, or at least an ally of some sort, looking out after me while I was sleeping, then."

"Hmph."

"Where's Sirius? Do you know?"

"The Ministry." Moody hooked his good foot around a chair and pulled it around so he could sit down. "There's no law against aiding and abetting werewolves who are determined to break the law to gain a Ministry job. At least, not yet."

"That will change, no doubt." Remus glanced at the small clock sitting on the table by the bed. "I slept that long?"

"Well, in case you missed it, you weren't feeling so good yesterday," Moody said dryly.

Remus chuckled.

"Good to know you can laugh at almost dying."

"What else can I do?" Remus asked. "It's a little late to cry about it." He swung his feet over the side of the bed, and then tentatively stood up. Moody watched, but said nothing. "I have to admit, uh, sir, that I'm a little surprised to see you here."

Moody snorted contemptuously. "They can handle things down at the Ministry for now. If they can't handle a couple of candidates, well…" He let the sentence trail off so he could change the subject. "Actually, you and I need to have a little talk. Think you're up for some lunch?"

They Apparated to Hogsmeade and went to the Three Broomsticks. Rosmerta looked more than a little surprised to see Remus with the Auror, but knew enough not to comment.

Remus reached for the mug of butterbeer that she put in front of him.

"Boy, didn't yesterday teach you anything?" Moody demanded.

The mug halted inches from Remus's lips. "Um…" He supposed there was a lesson to be learned, but what it had to do with a mug of butterbeer was beyond him.

"Don't just drink something that someone hands you! For Merlin's sake, you drank wolfsbane yesterday just because a Healer handed it to you, and you didn't even question it before you swallowed it. Anyone could have tampered with that drink!"

"But Rosmerta…"

"What if she were under an _Imperius_? Two drops of pure, unrefined aconite in that mug and I'm looking at a dead werewolf. You'd better get in the habit of being just a bit more suspicious about where you are, who's around you, and what you're eating or drinking. Constant vigilance, boy."

He had to concede Moody had a point—albeit a completely paranoid one. Thinking quickly, he cast a revealing charm on the mug. The liquid within glowed green for a second then turned back to its original color.

Moody grunted with satisfaction. "Next time, just ask for an unopened bottle," he suggested. "You might be in a Muggle pub or something, and you might not be able to cast that charm."

"Why would I be in a Muggle pub?" Remus asked, puzzled. "And honestly, why would anyone want to poison me anyhow? It's not like I'm some kind of threat to anyone."

"Just on full moon nights, eh, lad?" Moody's laugh was loud and abrasive, and it grated on Remus's nerves. The Auror seemed to notice that right away. "Don't like jokes like that, do you?"

"Well, sometimes it doesn't bother me," Remus admitted. The corner of his mouth tipped up. "I know lots of werewolf jokes—good ones. It's just easier to make jokes about it with people I know well."

Moody nodded. "Understandable." He sat back and regarded the younger wizard until Remus felt like squirming. "Why did you come in for the Auror testing?" he suddenly asked bluntly.

"I got the letter," Remus said simply.

"Oh, come off it, Lupin. You know as well as I do that letter should have never been sent to you. Why did you come in?"

Remus sighed. "You want me to say it?" Moody just sat there waiting. Obviously, he did want Remus to say it. "Desperation."

Moody considered him for another moment then nodded. "It's hard for a werewolf to find a job."

"You have no idea," mumbled the younger man.

"I do, because sometimes I have to go after men such as yourself who insist on breaking laws and the Werewolf Code in order to make ends meet. Did you ever stop to think that, if you had become an Auror, you'd have to track down others of your own kind?"

Remus's eyes narrowed. "Do you realize that every time you go after someone who isn't a Dark creature, you're going after another of _your_ own kind?"

Moody stared at him for a moment before suddenly breaking into laughter. It wasn't the harsh, grating kind of before. This was something much friendlier. "Good! Very good! Wasn't expecting that!"

Rosmerta came over and plunked down two bowls of stew. Moody eyed his up carefully then looked at Remus. With a sigh, the younger wizard cast the revealing spell on both plates. Moody nodded curtly and tucked in. Remus was just as eager to start eating. He hadn't realized how hungry he was until now.

"Why did you want to be an Auror?" Moody asked. It had the sound of a casual question, but the feel of something much bigger.

Remus hesitated then tried the careless, not-completely-truthful approach. "The Aurors were the only ones who offered me the chance for a job."

"Do you ever give straight answers the first time?" Moody growled. "I'm asking you a question, boy. Did you want to be an Auror for the glory? The excitement? What?"

Obviously truth was what was expected—nay, demanded. "Who doesn't dream of being an Auror?" Remus smiled lopsidedly. "Besides Dark wizards, that is." He saw Moody fight a grin. "It was something I'd always wanted to do. Maybe a bit for the excitement, but also because it would mean that maybe I could make a difference. This all sounds so unbelievably quixotic. I guess I thought I could balance out the Darkness in myself by helping to catch those who rely on the Dark Arts to prey on the weak and helpless. There. Is that hopelessly idealistic and stupid enough for you?"

"Could be." Moody suddenly turned and yelled for Rosmerta to bring them some bread.

Disconcerted, Remus dropped his gaze to his plate and gave his attention to the pieces of beef and vegetables. He had only taken a bite or two when Moody said something that made him stop and stare at the other man with confusion. "You talked to my father? When?"

"Last night." The Auror took another bite of stew. "I stopped by last night. Wanted to make sure you were going to pull through."

Remus took a quick drink of his butterbeer. "What did my father say?"

Moody cocked an eyebrow at him. "What do you think? He was bloody put out that you'd do such a damned foolish thing as to try for the Aurors."

The younger man exhaled heavily. "Yes, he let me know that in no uncertain terms."

Rosmerta came over and placed a plate of several slices of warm bread on the table between the two men. Moody waited until the woman had gone on before testing it with his wand for the presence of anything unusual. When he had determined it was safe, he picked up a slice of bread and buttered it, watching Remus push his stew around listlessly for a moment. "He was proud of you, though."

Remus tilted his head to the side, his eyes narrowing slightly. "That's not the impression I got."

"Let me ask you another question. How do you feel about the Death Eaters?"

Remus gave up eating. He pushed the plate aside and wrapped his fingers around the mug. "I don't think much of them, and I don't think they'd think much of me. My blood is a tad on the muddy side; it's not anywhere near the blueblood status they require. It's also a lot—Darker—than most of them would like. Abnormally so."

"Rumors are that Voldemort's looking for werewolves, vampires, hags, giants—almost anybody. He's promising them equality in the wizarding world in return for helping him win."

The young werewolf stared at him in shock. "That can't happen. He can't change the minds of the wizarding world. Even if he did win, there are still prejudices that he can't fight." He snorted with contempt. "I doubt he'd try to fight it. He'll promise anything to win."

Moody mopped up some of the gravy with the bread. "There are several that seem to think he's going to deliver on his promises." He watched Remus closely. "Including Fenrir Greyback."

Perhaps it was a bit nasty to do to the lad, especially considering how sick the boy had been the day before, but it was interesting to watch how quickly the boy recovered from his shock.

"Fenrir Greyback doesn't want equality. He wants more people to be like him," Remus said harshly. "Children especially. Bastard."

"There are meetings taking place almost every week in one part of Great Britain or another," Moody told him. "Greyback's recruiting."

"No." It was said so softly that Moody was able to ignore it. He had to ignore it, because he needed to push past the raw emotion he was seeing. He had to shove Remus through it as well. The young man across from him was very good at hiding things—hadn't he demonstrated that this past week? And yet, the mention of Greyback had shredded Remus's composure completely. He could be of no use to them if he couldn't control it.

"Do you talk to any other werewolves?" Moody asked.

"No. Not really."

"So you wouldn't know if any of them had been approached by Greyback or Voldemort?"

"No."

"Have you been approached?" The Auror's question brought an immediate response from Remus.

"NO!" The force of his denial made a few people in the place look over at them.

"Control yourself, Lupin."

"Sorry." Remus reached for his plate of food, and the Auror saw the walls slam up, leaving the young man with his usual neutral expression.

Moody nodded to himself. He could train the lad. All he needed to do now was to see if the boy wanted to be trained to do what he had in mind. "So, what are your plans?"

Remus looked up, quickly swallowing a mouthful of food. "What do you mean? Today? This week? For my life? What?"

"Do you have any potential jobs lined up?"

Remus rolled his eyes. "I have some applications and résumés, out, yes, but considering how well things are going, I doubt any of them will come through."

Moody took another bite of stew, and again watched Remus with such intensity that the younger man was uncomfortable. What did the man _want_?

As if he could sense the unspoken question, the Auror asked, "What would you say if I told you I could offer you a job?"

Remus froze. The spoon was a mere three inches in front of his face, but he didn't see it. "What kind of job?" he asked cautiously.

"Something—interesting. Unusual. And highly confidential."

"Sounds interesting and unusual."

Moody chuckled. "It's something that you are uniquely qualified for."

One corner of Remus's lips quirked upwards. "All right, I'm intrigued. What is it?"

Moody gestured to the bowl in front of his companion. "Finish that so we can take a little walk." He smiled, which was a frightening thing to behold. "And while we do, you can tell me what you know about the phoenix."


End file.
